Fics Recs - Tumblr Posts

Aww heck ya, got some new people to check out!

Who would you say is your favorite author?

ALL OF THESE WONDERFUL PEOPLE

always_an_anxious_mess 

FandomCaptive

ghostbandaids

ghostlyfroggy

hydrangeasheart 

like_theletter 

Lillian_nator

meridies 

piteouspeculiarity 

qar

Set_Suna 

wednesdayevening

allthegay

ardentia

acatalepsy

Cypherr

DirtyTrenches

MollyPollyKinz

milo_the_fish

n3so

since_I_saw_vienna

isa_belle

hello sir’s and ma’ams. this is just my organized navigation. or i try to make it as organized as possible for anyone who decides to look at this other than me…

i try to tag all of the fics that i reblogged correctly, so with that being said, anything with ** next to it means that i went though majority if not all fics and added the tags for them!

therefore, please do check out all of the writers that i reblogged. please give them some loving!!

NCT (MAIN AUS)

NCT 127

NCT DREAM

WAYV

BTS

ATEEZ

STRAYKIDS

SEVENTEEN **

TXT **

KPOP (OPTIONAL BIAS) // OTHER GROUPS

ALL || FLUFF || ANGST || SMUT || TIMESTAMPS

KHIPHOP

ALL || FLUFF || ANGST || SMUT || TIMESTAMPS

jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅸ)

hi everyone wow it's really been a while and i'm on list 9 already damnnn that's alot and list 10 is like half way complete already... soooo you might notice a change in the set up this time around i liked how it looked on my ao3 list so i added it here as well, i absolutely love this list like i've gone over this list a million times it's filled with alot of fics i was absolutely obsessed with, you know how attached i get to the characters and this list holds quite a few of them too so i hope you enjoy reading them as much as i did and you fall for them too... remember to give lots of love to the authors of these fics they are absolute geniuses and deserve all the respect and love in this world for creating these beautiful fics and sharing it with us so be sure to give them a follow, like and reblog or even leave a little comment i'm 100% percent sure it would mean alot to them 🥺🖤 also as these fics contain smut no under minors allowed/interact... if you would like to share some of your favourites or just wanna ramble about fics you love send me an ask i love hearing from you guys and happy reading everyone till next time ✨🖤

a- angst s- smut f-fluff

series

dreamcatchers by @ggukcangetit f a

↬  DI Jeon didn’t need a new partner. Unfortunately, his superiors felt otherwise; especially considering the extremely high-profile murder that had just taken place in the port city. Recent transfer, DI Choi Yuri finds herself confronted with a new cityscape, unfamiliar people, a hostile partner, and a homicide that is certain to bring back unpleasant memories.  

block party by @minlucent f s a

↬ moving into your new apartment brings back memories of your biggest mistake. neighbours au e2l

a little bit of your heart by @yoongiofmine f s a ft. myg

↬ you had everything you could ever dream of; the career of your dreams as a music producer, the best friends you could ever wish for, and a exes-turned-friends-turned-fuck-buddies relationship with min yoongi. you knew you and yoongi would never move past that and you were okay with it. Until a friend from your past comes back into your life, offering to give you everything you deserve, everything yoongi couldn’t. Will jungkook show you what you’ve been missing? Or will the new guy threaten yoongi enough to do something about it? 

lost stars by @/yoongiofmine f s a

↬ Jungkook was lost. He didn’t know who he was anymore, so he decided to leave and find himself. But he wasn’t expecting to find you along the way, an island girl who has no idea who he is. Jungkook has a secret. But so do you. idol au s2l

secrets we keep by @/yoongiofmine f s a

↬ Being a camgirl was never your main goal in life, but when the pandemic hit and you lost your job, you were desperate. Now, two years later, the world is back to normal and  you are one of the top creators of OnlyChingu; the South Korean version of OnlyFans. A website where idols hide behind anonymous profiles in search of that connection they lost during lockdown. Jungkook was never into this type of stuff. Until he ran into you. He knows you’re his perfect girl, his ideal type. Will he be able to put his own insecurities aside when chasing you? Or will you let the secrets you keep ruin you? idol au

i hate you, i love you by @jungblue s a

↬ You hated him at seven, warmed up to him at twelve, and liked him at fifteen. Now the two of you are twenty years old and inseparable best friends… and you’re absolutely in love with him; he’s in love too—just not with you. 

fatal attraction by @jungcock s a ft. kth

↬ your dangerous ex-boyfriend comes back to haunt you in more ways than one. exes au serial killer thriller

pub golf by @taleasnewastime f s

↬ One night. One stupidly hot man, who just keeps appearing in every pub you go to. Six friends. Nine pubs. Nine drinks. Ten million stupid rules. Let the chaos begin. s2l

animal by @cutaepatootie f s a

↬ boxer jungkook au ANGST

things you don't know by @btsgotjams27 a

↬ It’s been seven years since you last saw the boy that broke your heart. After moving back home, you try everything you can to avoid seeing him around town, but destiny has a wicked way of doing the opposite.

entangled by @caelesjjk f s a ft. kth

↬ Jeon Jungkook is Spider-Man. He saved your life twice. But he’s also been your sweet lab partner in college for the past two years and now someone who is more than just a friend. You care about him…maybe even love him. But something tells you that you aren’t quite sure what love even is. How could you when you have feelings for someone else as well? Kim Taehyung is the handsome stranger you’ve seen around campus and somehow ended up dancing with at Club Onyx. You were upset that Jungkook had stood you up once again and Taehyung made you feel like you were on top of the world. What you didn’t know that night, is the dark secret Taehyung is trying desperately to hide, but the closer the two of you get the more difficult that becomes.

when the end comes by @oddinary4bts f s a

↬ Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook?

new girl by @jjkeverlast f s a

↬ after finding out your boyfriend of 6 years cheated on you, you find yourself moving in with three guys in a loft. what could possibly go wrong?

horizon by @/sokooks f s a

↬ The way you approached life had started to break down Jungkook's emotional barriers. Jungkook couldn't deny that he was drawn to you in a way that was entirely new and unfamiliar. You had become more than just an assignment; you had become someone he genuinely cared about. It was the way you made him feel. With you, he felt more human than he had in a long time. Despite his best efforts to remain detached, his heart had other plans. angel au

searching for nirvana by @/sokooks f s a

↬ he shouldn't be here. he shouldn't be touching you the way he was- but he was here before him. he was your friend, not him. he knew your body, not him. he wanted to be the only one to touch you the way you liked. he he wanted you to remember that. despite the fact that he already had someone waiting for him. best friends au cheating au.

twelve hours by @whatifyoulivelikethat s a

↬ you have twelve hours to make jeon jungkook fall in love with you. he's about to get married. you're the entertainment at his bachelor party - a burlesque dancer. long ago, he used to be the class representative and you used to be the class delinquent. nothing has changed and, yet, everything has.

when it all... by @7deadlysinsfics f a

↬ what’s there to do when your husband says he thinks he doesn’t love you anymore? you pick up the broken pieces the best you can and try to move on

better than me ? by @/7deadlysinsfics f s a

↬ jungkook is clear on what you both are to each other. still, he doesn’t want you to think anyone else is better than him

our first and our last by @thedefinitionofbts f a ft ot7

↬ The first time you met Jeon Jungkook was on your tenth birthday. On that day, he was nothing more than the strange man who jumped into a dark portal that suddenly opened in the middle of the park. The ten year old you just stood in the grass, strands of hair ruffling from the calm breeze that swooped by; head slightly tilted, bright, innocent eyes wide open and staring at him with wonder and disbelief. There was a certain amount of confusion, but your young mind was too naïve to question his actions or what they entailed. soulmate au

dancer in the dark by @gwoongi f s a

↬ Money can’t buy you happiness. Jeongguk, for the longest time, thinks he’s happy. Truthfully, Jeongguk doesn’t know what happiness is until you find him. rockstar au

together by @httpjeon f s a ft.pjm

↬domestic!au, couple!au, stoner!au, gamer!au

hot bot by @/httpjeon f s

↬ purchasing a Hot Bot wasn’t exactly something you ever really planned on. when you do, however, it sends your life down a path of convoluted government schemes and dark secrets.

stardust by @iamtaekooked f

↬ You didn’t believe in soulmates until you lay your eyes on Jeon Jeongguk, the younger brother of your best friend’s husband. That is when you see the red string beginning encircled around your pinky and ending in his

serendipity by @rohobi f s a

↬ After you reveal your inexperienced sexual status to your best friend, Jungkook grapples with the news, startled by the idea that the girl he always thought could get anyone, is a virgin. After finding his porn at 3AM, you decide that maybe it’s about time to stain the white sheets of your world with the colors of a forbidden fruit Jungkook seems to have in the palm of his hands.

chasing shadows by @colormepurplex2 s a

↬ Your job gets you into trouble sometimes. Who would have thought crime journalism would put so many targets on your back? But, it’s happening again, someone’s threatening you. Only, this time, it’s not just you that’s in the crosshairs. Your best friend, Enola, is out on assignment and can’t help like she usually does. So, what does she do instead? She sends her brother, Jungkook, armed with a magic bag, a charming smile, and deductive reasoning skills that prove his worth as one of the best PI’s around.

I gasp once, and in that breath, I accept you in by @inkofyoonkoo f s a

↬ In which Jungkook arrives to your small town to spend the holidays, and you slowly let go of all the ghosts of your past. s2l fwb au

sweet nothing by @adonis-koo f s a

↬ Being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself. His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.

three's a crowd by @/adonis-koo s a ft. jimin

↬ When your mom’s fairytale life begins to bleed over into your world you’re suddenly caught between two men and one big secret, what was supposed to be a relaxing trip soon begins to spiral out of control. All you wanted was a free vacation… ceo au

sleepwalking by @taexual f s a

↬ due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

empty space by @ahundredtimesover f s a

↬ It started as friendship, turned to a casual fuck, then ended in heartbreak. Turns out, he wasn’t who he said he was, and years later he enters your life again, forcing you to face all the emotions you’d been trying to bury. 

OR Officer Jeon looks really hot in his uniform and you wish you didn’t hate him as much as you do.

as the world burns around us by @today-we-will-survive a

↬ You haven’t seen the sun in two years. The Virus wiped out a good three quarters of the world’s population and then the wars that followed wiped out half of that. After everything happened, it was only a matter of time before the different countries started blaming each other and emptied their nuclear arsenals. You’re still surprised Seoul survived – if you can call what it has become “surviving”

hotter than hell by @chateautae f s a

↬ jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.

to turn a bad thing good by @/chateautae f s a

↬ jungkook’s drunken one night stand goes awry when he comes to learn not only is he being forced into an arranged marriage, but it’s to the very girl he abandoned that night—and things get a lot more complicated when you’re the best hookup he’s ever had.

J’aime by @baepop f s a

↬ You’re the newest hire at a local café and head barista Jeon Jungkook takes you under his wing.

Written in the Stars by @/baepop f s a ft. kth

↬ You’re the girl of Jungkook’s dreams, literally. The only problem: you’re taken by his best friend

make me forget by @roseannekook f s a

↬ You are the lead vocalist and main dancer of your company’s first girl group, but on the fourth promotion of your debut song things don’t go as planned. At the brink of an uprising scandal, you seek refuge in the bathroom stalls…and find it in the arms of no one else but BTS’ golden maknae Jeon Jungkook.

one of your girls by @ggukiepie s a ft. pjm

↬ fwb au college au fuck boy au inspired by the song

boy in luv by @/ggukiepie f s a

↬ just two idiot best friends in l*ve college!au, bff!jk, athlete!jk, student council president oc, cheerleader!oc

the boy who left by @/gujoonim a

↬ As your eyes staring deeply into your possible client-to-be’s eyes, something crossed your mind, it was that pair of eyes that you were looking for when you being abandoned at the aisle on your wedding day. ceo au

love sewn by @jvnghxope s a

↬ You’ve never cared about the thin-as-paper walls of your beloved apartment until Jeon Jungkook moved next door. You could hear everything –from his late-night parties on Saturday, to the quality time he spent with his girlfriend in the intimacy of his bedroom. One day, everything ceases. Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months and you find yourself knocking his door before you can think it twice.

not yet by f s @bratkook f s a

↬ jungkook feels the pang of guilt in his gut when you spot your recent ex out with his new girl, and what better way to make the jerk hurt than to have him believe you were now dating him, the neighbor he had been insecure about your whole relationship.

one shot

blazes of deceit by @periminkle f a

↬ when the opportunity to finally venture past the stone walls you’ve grown up in presents itself, you jump at the chance to discover the origin of those mysterious lights—even if the trip comes with a harsh truth and a suspicious, yet undoubtedly attractive, tour guide. tangled au disney au

southpaw by @starshapedkookie f s a

↬ Knowing Jeon Jungkook for the better part of your life, you thought you knew everything about him. Well, that was before you two disappeared from each other’s lives at least. When Jungkook suddenly finds himself buying you a coffee to rekindle your friendship, it leads to much more than you bargained for.

house of cards by @jeonggukingdom s a

↬ What does safe mean when you are chased by zombies, when every corner you turn could be the last one for you? What do words like home and future mean when you’re always on the run and every moment could be your last? They mean nothing and everything at the same time and Jeongguk is all of the above. He is your safe haven, he is your home and he is your future. But things like that crumble easily in your world.

enouement by @littlemisskookie s a

↬ War is Hell, but it’s what you had to do to take your brother’s place. Of course, between the days of Hell are little slices of Heaven you’d call your Captain, Jeon Jungkook. mulan au disney au

miss taken by @junghelioseok f s

↬you pride yourself on being a professional, but sometimes your students' parents really test your patience. single parent dilfjk jk e2l

the ex text by @shadowkoo f s a

↬ The 2 AM texts have started again. It’s a bittersweet familiarity that you can’t run away from, and despite wishing to forget him: no one will ever measure up to the exceptional standard set by your ex, and you’ll never have anyone as good as him either. Like a permanent mark on your heart, Jungkook’s presence has become an insatiable craving, an addiction you'll never outgrow or cast aside.

the proposal by @hansolmates f s a

↬Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. based on the movie the proposal e2l

red and gold by @/thedefinitionofbts f s

↬It’s no secret that genius, billionaire, international playboy, and philanthropist- Jeon Jungkook, better known as the CEO of Jeon Industries-and even better known as Iron Man, is one of the most intelligent, wealthy, and powerful men in the world. There’s nothing that can get to him or his ego, that is, until you happen to show up and give him a run for his money. 

burning bright by @snackhobi s

↬there are no secrets in the drift. if jungkook were to see the mess inside your head and heart, laid utterly bare, he’d turn away from you. based on the movie pacific rim

but we loved young by @jl-micasea-fics s a

↬Jungkook is everything you’re not, the ying to your yang. Your tight knit friendship nurtured from childhood survived the major life events that most don’t, and to that end, you suppose you’re fated to be together, until unrequited longing is eventually noticed, and boundaries are forever crossed.

the shoulder on which you cry by @lemonjoonah f s a ft. knj

↬ after moving away from your hometown five years ago, you’ve struggled on every return. each trip back being made out of haste due to an unfortunate event in your life. namjoon has always been there to help you through those moments. but when he can’t be there to support you during your current trip home, jungkook offers to stay by your side and be the comfort you need. 

illusion of choice by @hobibliophile f s a

↬ You’ve grown up with the Jeons, Jungmin and Jungkook, for as long as you can remember, your parents being very close. But little did you know that this is because you are in fact arranged to be married to the Jeon heir, Jungmin. However, a tragedy causes Jungkook to take up his brother’s mantle, and that includes becoming your fiancé.

the blue princess and her red rose by @/cutaepatootie f s a

↬ After all, he was her red rose, while she was just another one of the many blue roses that grew in the dying gardens of Greyria. princess au

rigor mortis by @readyplayerhobi f s a

↬ A night out at a bar results in you going home with a young and attractive police officer. But if you think the night was something to remember, that’s nothing compared to waking up to find a zombie outbreak in the city. A chance encounter with Officer Jeon leads to him helping you escape from the plague infested city.

lowkey by @joonbird s

↬ Jungkook is the nude model for your art school’s life drawing class.

part-time lover by @sketchguk f s a

↬there is no crime more perfect than marrying jeon jeongguk. your relationship is nothing more than a ruse - while your friends pester you for being perpetually single, jeongguk desperately needs a wife to complete the pristine image of a family, fooling his way through the parent interview at the nation’s most prestigious private school. only time will tell how deep your lies will run as you find home in one another’s minds. because untangled in the moonlight, he is but a spy, exposing a secret world of corruption, and you, an assassin, ridding the streets of danger one hit at a time. 

sweet apple biscuits by @rosaetae a

↬ a story about someone who receives letters from themselves ten years in the future and asks them to fix all their regrets and save a particular boy. inspired by the anime 'orange'

i'll be home by @wwilloww f s a ft.knj

↬ When your first love, Jungkook, disappeared from your village five years ago, no one thought he would return, let alone on the night of your betrothal to another man. 

white lies by @noteguk f s a

↬ in which Jungkook lies his way out of and into trouble. But he can’t tell white lies when it comes to you. 

yes coach by @/taleanewastime s

↬ You play in a local netball team and as a new season starts you have a new coach. Enter Jungkook, he may look soft, but he turns out to be a hard taskmaster, one who ruffles your feathers when he makes some changes to the team. Tensions grow between you through the weeks, until they finally reach breaking point.

spf 50 by @gimmeyoon f s

 ↬ If you have to spend your summer home from college working a job you hate, it might as well include sitting by the pool with Jungkook. Now if only kids could stop vomiting in it.

fifth wish by @jiminrings f a

↬ jeon jungkook, world-class socialite and nepotism baby, should be out every night to celebrate while he’s at his prime. why should he fake-date his bodyguard instead? alternatively, jungkook regularly throws coins to wishing wells with only one desire in mind — to get rid of you.

blacklisted by @/httpjeon s a ft. kth

↬after departing from your dom, you’re assigned to two incredibly powerful men.

↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library

THIS IS SOOO CUTE!!!!!!!!!!!!  <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

VOGUE | myg

summary: you’ve always said that fashion is meant to push the limits of art, but no amount of swarovski crystals could ever prepare you for the latest assignment your manager has lined up for you: design a dress with none other than min yoongi, the evil genius that stole the show from you during paris fashion week, to be displayed in a showcase in milan.

{enemies to lovers!au, fashion designers!au}

pairing: min yoongi x female reader genre: fluff, comedy, unresolved romantic tension, angst word count: 42k warnings: alcohol consumption, cliches, this is basically every fic of mine rolled into one 42k package a/n: finally !!! she’s here !!! god i have been working on this fic ever since the beginning of april. she’s my baby and the love of my life, and almost my worst nightmare. also, please please please let me know if you are having problems reading, liking, or reblogging this fic. i will do anything i can to fix it. otherwise, please enjoy this absolute behemoth of a fic.

Keep reading

This whole Series is a masterpiece!!! I really love it!!  Even though all of the ending of this series was heart-breaking, the tale that was being told in this series is so good!!!! I love this series so much!! Imma read this series again when i have the time in the future!!!! <3 <3 <3

Tales of Greyria

Five stories that took place during the great times of a kingdom named Greyria, telling us about its glory and its downfall.  How it all started with a red rose, and ended with a burning fire. 

Jeon Jungkook - The Prince of The Red Rose

⇨ The Blue Princess and her Red Rose -  oneshot prince jungkook au / fantasy au  |  a / s / f After all, he was her red rose, while she was just another one of the many blue roses that grew in the dying gardens of Greyria. 

Kim Taehyung - The Wildling

⇨ In search of the Aurora Borealis -  01 | 02     ✓ wildling taehyung au / fantasy au  |  a / s / f In which a young Princess of Greyria has to exchange her freedom for the sake of her kingdom, and marry a quiet and mysterious wildling whose eyes were made for contemplating the Aurora Borealis. 

Park Jimin - The Bewitched Prince

⇨ Touched by a Fallen Star -  oneshot prince jimin au / fantasy au  |  a / s / f You know he doesn’t belong to you. It’s pure science, physics. The stars have always belonged to the night sky, but since when has the night sky belonged to one of its insignificant stars? 

Jung Hoseok - The Baker’s Son

⇨ Down the Three Seasons path -  oneshot fantasy au  |  a / s / f You wondered if he would ever walk down the Three Seasons path again in hopes of remembering you, in hopes of remembering how, once upon a time, you both fell in love with each other.

Min Yoongi - The Prince of The Green Fire

⇨ A Brief Story of Time - oneshot  prince yoongi au / fantasy au  |  a / s / f Moments like that were brief, for beautiful things are brief, and they all come to an end. And yours and Yoongi’s love was exactly that: a brief and beautiful story of time.

[Finished 14.04.2018]

•APPRECIATION POST•

Fics recommendations : jungkook (mostly) || yoongi

can also be read as : starter pack of jungook & yoongi’s ff

🤎 - personnal favorite

1. ongoing series that makes my heart beats when there is a new update. everything below is chef kiss

mutual help @personasintro • jjk 🤎

color me in @taegularities • jjk 🤎

three tangerines @kithtaehyung • myg 🤎

schemin’ @dollfaceksj • myg 🤎

over wine @koocycle • jjk

risqué @mercurygguk • jjk

call me @peachypinkygloss • jjk

in which collection @onlyswan • jjk 🤎

spicy’n sweet @thvhoe • jjk

when the end comes @oddinary4bts • jjk 🤎

& more to come…

2. special mention to those fics (series+oneshot) who are onhold or completed and gave me the same effect

mathilda @babystrcandy • myg 🤎

rattled @gukslut • jjk 🤎

to build a home @soft4gguk • jjk

long way home @sparklingchim • jjk

the boy with galaxies in his eyes @oddinary4bts • jjk

idealizations concerning real life relations @venusiangguk • jjk

reminder @dollfaceksj • jjk

daydream @xpeachesncream • myg 🤎

cool with you @kooktrash • jjk

bad influence @noteguk • jjk

taste of a poison paradise @dollfaceksj • jjk 🤎 (drabble and bullet points format!! last drabble soon!!)

deep six @bratkook • jjk (heard there will be a prequel ehehe!)

& more to come…

💌 to writers : please do believe that all of your works are worth to read. i am enjoying them a lot, very. so keep going because i will be there to support all of your work, the shortest to the longest one!

🧸 to readers passing by : enjoy reading fics as much as i like it, give support is the nicest thing you could do and i truly believe that it keeps the interaction more alive :)

•FICS LATELY•

again mostly jungkook and yoongi

continuation to this list

🤎 - personnal favorite (secretely want to put that heart everywhere)

@jaykaysthicthighs :

• end of the love story | jjk 🤎

• kiss me better | jjk

realistic (?) relationship at its peak especially ‘end of the love story’. i was lost of words once i finished it

@alphabetboyluvr aka @dappledaisies on wattpad :

• bad decisions | jjk 🤎

• throttle | jjk

• color vision | jjk 🤎

• night crawlers | jjk

BASICALLY everything she wrotes is masterpiece. I could put every works of her on that list. I binge read almost everything in few weeks

@peachypinkygloss :

• places i know | jjk 🤎

pain yet so good

@kookslastbutton :

• when i say forever | jjk

• too late to dream | jjk

where can i sign to have him too? him as an husband must be holy grail

@dollfaceksj :

• can’t afford love | myg

• sill don’t know my name | jjk 🤎

ALWAYS been weak for dad!au especially yoongs ones. about sdkmn, looking for an e2(?) then go for it! the tension is hawt as hell. (clovs babe i believe it will be e2l at the end i trust my guts + you did edge me with that ending arghh)

@13lov :

• tethered | jjk

(atm : 2 parts) i can’t stand his sister. let them be happy :(

@archivedkookie :

• after hours | myg

• need you | jjk 🤎

yoongs and kook : both simps

@jeonqkooks :

• our beloved summer | jjk

i am team yoongi atp. i am so mad against oc and jungkook. like cmon babes, lets communicate, i can be your therapist if you want me too? otherwise i am lovin a bit too much this series

@babystrcandy :

• the lucky one | jjk

noa’s healing fic🫶🏼

@oddinary4bts :

• november sun | jjk 🤎

short story big emotions

@wintaerbaer :

• seven storms | jjk 🤎

beautiful story

@jjungxkook :

• blackout | jjk

I think i read it twice already but feels good to reread (it’s a 3 parts). I am so whipped for both of them. Oh and the angst here? mindblowing and i loveeeeee it

@ot7always :

• oh my god they were (quarantined) roomates | jjk

a must to read. 17k notes ain’t enough

@yoonia

• carousel | myg

looking for good plot and suspense? you got served! i am actually half way through it and i just fell in love with all the cliffhanger

—

now that all of our boys are enlisting, my wish is for you writers to please keep feeding me with your writing about them. your works keep me alive and i am not even dramatic. i joined tumblr not too long ago and since then i enjoyed so much being here, i laughed, cried, screamed… a way to be comforted. and very much thank you to yall!

i know that 2025 is far away - actually no it is not so far away at some point - but our 7 is counting on us. we will wait for them so that they can fulfilled their promise!

yay to many years filled with bangtan💜

ughhhh, Isa, this is so good !!! husband seokjin has been living in my mind rent free this week and this one DEFINITELY did not help me forget that ):

ksj || Are You Still Watching

wc: 900w

summary: Your husband looks REALLY hot while playing videogames.

tags: established relationship au, husband!seokjin x wife!reader, gamer!seokjin, pwp ;P

warnings: words such as sl*t, general explicit language, begging, dirty talk, slight wife kink, oral (m receiving), light breast play, vocal kink, praise kink, switchy dynamics.

a/n: was horny for seokjin-- here! have this.

-

Your husband is playing the Legend of Zelda in his undershirt and briefs, sitting at the edge of the bed facing your TV, concentrated as fuck.

He's got his glasses on too, which reflect the animation happening in the game. You watch his facial expression change as he completes different tasks. He bites his lip and lets out a quiet grunt at a particularly difficult part.

You're in your silk pajama gown, kicking your legs in the air with your stomach against the bed, leaning on your hands. You instruct him on how to beat the level, suggesting to him strategies and ideas he might not have thought of. He's getting frustrated.

He's hot when he's frustrated. His body tenses, and he focuses harder, his fingers wrapped around the controller in a way that shows off his hands and long, thick fingers. He sighs, having completed a quest, and reaches for the glass of water set on the nightstand.

"You're hot when you're mad," you say, relaxed, stretching out over the bed to lay under your husband.

"Yeah, babe?" He shifts on the bed, getting back into a comfortable position.

"Yeah, it makes me want to suck your cock," you coax, knowing exactly what you're doing.

He glances down and does a double take. His surprised gaze transforms into one of intense lust, letting the silence speak between you. He shifts back a bit, feeling himself harden at the thought of your hot mouth playing with his dick while he plays. "Such a little slut," he hisses.

"Your slut," you place your hands on his thighs, kneading them as you eye the growing bulge between them. "Let me suck you, Seokjin…"

He flushes red, leaning back on his elbows. "Would you, and I'll fuck that tight pussy full of my cum after? I'm going to ask nicely, Y/N."

Your mouth travels to his tenting cock, pressing against the unnecessary cloth. Your hums vibrate through the material, teasingly stimulating him. "Ahhh," he vocalizes, leaning his head back on his shoulders.

"That's it angel," you praise, your fingers carefully wedging themselves between the strap of his briefs and his bare skin. You suck a chaste claim next to his happy trail, and it develops into a rosy red before your eyes.

With hooded eyes, his hands card themselves through your hair as, sliver by sliver, his form is revealed to you. "I can take all of you in my throat," you tease. Seokjin is big. He's always been big, fat and long. It's the prettiest dick you've ever seen, even while flaccid.

"Oh my god," you gasp softly, letting the tip hit your tongue. He groans with you, instinctively bucking up a bit to meet your hot mouth. You close your lips, hollowing your cheeks as you take the entire length down your throat. He twitches, holding your hair as his beautiful wife swallows his dick.

It's so good, it's addictively good, it's confectious. He's laid out in front of you, his body at the mercy of your skilled tongue and tight throat. He'd give anything to have his tongue buried in your cunt right now and the look that he gives you just now is indicative of that. Suddenly, he clenches, as if to warn you of his orgasm.

The stupid Zelda theme is still playing in the back, so you smile, popping off the tip. He whines at the loss, the long, desperate kind of whine. Immediately, he sits up and grabs at your waist hastily.

"Mm mmm…" you throw your hands over his shoulders, rubbing them. He sighs, staring down at your lips hungrily. He chases you in a kind of dance, giving into his instincts would only work against him.

He was there for the IUD appointment. He helped you fill out the paperwork.

"Let me fuck that tight cunt, let me take what's mine," his hands grip your ass, squeezing it possessively.

You moan, melting at the way he handles you just right. Your body corresponds to his unlike any other, and right now it's begging for his release inside of you. His tongue darts out to catch one of the sensitive buds, encapsulating it in his mouth. His thumb grazes over the swell of your opposite breast, intrigued with its softness.

"Seokjin please~!" You erupt.

His lips contort into a devilish grin. He presses the tip of his cock to play with your throbbing clitoris before plunging into your heat and driving it home.

You writhe, your nails digging into his back, causing him to grimace. He continues relentlessly abusing your delicacy, diving into the crook of your neck to leave his unapologetic marks all over his wife. "Mmmh~!" You yell.

The knot you weren't even aware had formed in the pit of your stomach aches for release, as his hips stammer to a staggering halt as his cock paints the walls of your pussy white with his hot cum.

He repositions you on his thighs, switching positions while keeping you on his dick.

"I never get sick of that," he says, placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

The glow of the television screen changes in color, to a dimmer screen that reads: "Are you still watching?"

You laugh. I mean, if he's down for another round-- of videogames that is!

Seokjin shrugs and grabs the controller.

it's so heartbreaking and so beautifully written 😔😔😔 and it resonated even more with me, because I went through one of those breakups yesterday myself, thank you for writing this one 💜

Valentine (ksj)

Summary- What happens when all your wishes come true, and you have to pick between them?

word count- 2.5k

pairing- nonidol!Seokjin x Reader

rating- PG13

genre- angst, breakup!au, idiots2(not)lovers

warnings- none

a.n- this was written as part of @thebtswritersclub​‘s February prompt “Dishonest Love”. This was probably the most out of the box I could’ve used the prompt so I’m lowkey proud. It is also a part of my new drabble series where I write an angsty drabble based on an emo song. This was inspired by Valentine by the Get Up Kids. Hope you enjoy reading!

As always feedback appreciated, a reblog and a like goes a far way. Send me an ask! 💌

perm taglist- @cheesecakes-randomshitz​, @aroseforyoongi​​

-

The grass tickled you as you laid on the small hill, the prickly blades caressing the skin on your arms and legs. The balmy wind was nice, cooling you down, drying the tears that flowed down your cheeks. You didn’t know how to move on from here, but the warmth of his hand in yours reminded you that it needed to happen.

“I wish we had more time,” he whispered into the night sky, his hand squeezing yours a little.

“Me too,” you spoke, the stars above you turning into streaks of light as you sniffled. “We’re so stupid…”

“The stupidest,” he lamented. He turned his head to the side then, looking at your profile, hoping to save it in his memory forever. Although the grief on your features saddened him, you were still the most beautiful person he had ever seen. His eyes traced your brow bone, the bridge of your nose, the shape of your mouth as he memorized each feature, even though he had been looking at the same face for ten years.

Continuar lendo

Bound in Pain | Steve Harrington

Pairing: Steve Harrington x soulmate!Reader

Word Count: 8.6k

Synopsis: In a world where you can feel your soulmate's pain, y/n gives up hope. That was until Vecna attacked Hawkins.

Warnings: during season 4, fluff, soulmate AU!

I love soulmate au's but they are so rare. Petition for more of these to be written please!

Click here to see my masterlist

Y/n didn’t like the soulmate attachment. It seemed weird to her that everyone in the world had someone perfect for them, so perfect, that they could feel each other's pain. A tether that connected souls, meant to help find each other in the sea of other people.

She remembered when she found out. Waking up with bruises covering her, like an artist painting a canvas. A sharp pain pulsated through her arms, as her parents explained why it was happening to her. Why she was feeling pain without cause. 

At first she dismissed the constant pain as reckless behavior. But then the small bruises turned into black eyes, scrapes turned into gashes, and she couldn’t wait for the day she could ask her soulmate why. 

Most people found their other half around the time they turned 16. No one knew why but it always ended up that way. Why did bond forced people together at such a young age? To prevent them from deviating? To start the rest of their lives? 

Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. Y/n woke up on the morning of that birthday with a twinkle in her eyes, a sudden hope that maybe today was the day she would find them. She kept her eyes peeled, watching the movements of everyone around her. But days passed, even months and still there was no sign of her soulmate anywhere. 

A majority of the kids in her grade had already found their match and her blood boiled every time she would pass them in the halls. So cute, so perfect together. It was just a reminder that she was still alone. Where could her soulmate be? Was she unlucky? Did they live an unfathomable distance away from her?

After graduating high school, with still no hint as to who her partner could be, Y/n gave up hope. Maybe she was meant to be single forever. Maybe this other person, who was so careless and rash, was meant to stay anonymous. 

It wasn’t until the summer of ’85 that she knew she would definitively be alone. During the cold night of Fourth of July, she was waiting in a churro line at the Hawkin’s Fair, accompanied by a friend she knew back in high school. One minute she was moving forward, watching as someone left with their food and the next…it was like a punch in the gut. 

Falling over, she slammed into the ground, the coarse dirt digging into her sides. But the pain didn’t stop. Punch after punch, slap after slap, Y/n cried out in pain. It was so intense, unlike anything she had ever felt before. 

Her friend had managed to get her home in time for a pulsating sting to go through her neck, knocking her out for the rest of the night. She didn’t hear about the mall until the next day. It was a logical conclusion to say her soulmate died in that fire. After years and years of bruises and punches it all just stopped. No more stubbed toes or bruises on her legs; it was all gone.

For months after, she would stare at the newspaper clipping with the pictures of everyone who died. Somewhere amongst all the fallen faces was her soulmate. Part of her was sad she didn’t get to meet them. That everyone around her got their fairytale ending while she was destined to be alone. 

She had already made her peace with never finding them but now it felt permanent. It wasn’t some lie she was telling herself because of the long delay - it was the truth.

On one particular day in March, Y/n got off from work hoping for a pick me up. One of her coworkers who was still in high school had found her soulmate during their shift and she couldn’t stand to be around them.

She walked into her local video store and began perusing the aisles. Maybe something with action? A Mystery? She wasn’t in the mood for anything in particular. Just something to keep her distracted for a few hours ‘till nightfall. 

One of the staff rounded the corner, speaking before he could even spot who it was. “Hey, welcome to Family Video what can I-” He smiled when he saw her. “Oh, hey, Y/n.”

She smiled back, “Hey, Steve.”

Steve Harrington, former ruler of Hawkins High, slumped against a shelf and crossed his arms. His “customer helping” voice faded as he eased back into his own personality. Y/n didn’t know Steve well in school, despite being in the same grade. She did, however, become somewhat friends with him over the summer. 

Before the mall fire, she had a cushy job as the receptionist at a nail salon right across from the ice scream shop he worked in. Oftentimes, her co-workers would send her over to Scoops Ahoy to get ice cream for everyone, especially when the humid summer air came into effect. 

What started as friendly hellos and waves with Steve and Robin soon turned into conversations and hangouts during lunch breaks. They would often sneak her scoop of rocky road when their manager wasn’t there to help her get through the day. In return, she would offer a free nail appointment. It wasn’t much but Robin did take her up on the offer once. 

She would like to say they were friends by that point, though they haven’t really talked since the summer. When you spend every day so close to people, it's easy to bond. But when you take that away, it can test the strength of the relationships you’ve built. 

“Looking for anything in particular?” Steve asked, slumping further into the shelf. She shook her head, looking back at all the tapes. “How about romance? We just got in Lady Jane.”

“No,” she responded quickly. “No, romance.”

Nodding, he stood up straight, adjusting his green vest. “Okay, no romance, got it. Well…” he trailed off, rounding a corner.

He didn’t even check if she was following. She was; walking closely behind him as he searched for another film. Finally, he eyes fell on one, picking it up and pressing it against his chest. Both his hands encapsulated the case, laying flatly on the top and bottom. 

“What about Clue? It’s a murder mystery; based off the game.” The words curled up at the end, almost like an invitation to keep pushing.

Y/n scrunched her face, her mouth closing to a thin line. “Getting closer.”

A smile crept on his face. “Okay then, I think I know just the-”

Before he could finish, Robin yelled from across the store, “Hey Dingus! Check this out.”

Sighing, he put down the tape, leaning out of the shelves to see what she needed. “Robs, I’m with a customer,” he told her.

Finally, she turned to look at them, pulling her eyes away from the tv that hung near the reception desk in the middle of the room. “Oh shit sorry- oh it’s just Y/n. Both of you come on!”

“Sorry about this-” Steve told her, walking out of the row of tapes.

Y/n waved a hand to stop him. “It’s okay, I’m not in dire need of a movie right now.”

Chuckling, he looked down at his feet as they approached his co-worker. The static sound of the TV grew as they focused on the reporter's words. 

“This just in, a local Hawkins student found murdered at Forest Hills Trailer Park. The police have yet to reveal the identity of the student…”

“Oh shit,” Y/n mumbled to herself. Steve gave a hum of acknowledgment, tilting his head toward her. “That’s where Eddie lives.”

His head whipped over to look at her. “You know Munson?” he asked.

“Yeah, he used to sell me weed in high school. We’d smoke under the bleachers sometimes.” Taking a minute longer to stare at the new broadcast, she finally looked over at a very surprised Steve Harrington. His eyebrows were raised, eyes wide and not closing. “What? Surprised I know him?”

“I mean yeah but…didn’t take you for a smoker.”

She rolled her eyes. “Like you didn’t smoke too. I saw those cigarettes you used to hide on your breaks.”

“Yeah but I didn’t buy them from Eddie Munson.”

“Does that really matter?”

He opened his mouth to respond but the bell of the store dinged loudly, followed by the voice of a young teen. “Hey Steve!”

Y/n watched as he closed his eyes, the muscles of his face contorting into a grimace. Turning, he shouted “What?”

Two young teens came running in, out of breath from whatever journey it took to get there. The one that yelled was a boy with curly hair muffled by a snapback hat. He had on some weird shirt with a devil covered by a patterned button down left open. The other was a girl. A redhead that was dressed relatively normal compared to her friend. 

“How many phones do you have?” the boy asked, leaning over the front desk. 

“Dustin, can’t you see I’m in the middle of something?” 

Ignoring the response, he repeated his question. “I don’t care about your flirting, I asked how many phones you have!”

Walking up behind Y/n and Steve, Robin joined the conversation. “Three if you count the phone in the back,” she said.

The two freshmen looked at each other, some sort of silent conversation going on. “That could work,” the girl finally said. 

Before anyone could protest, Dustin threw his bag over the counter, jumping over to follow it. There were immediate protests from Steve as the young kid took helm of the computer, the redhead running around the side to join him. 

“Woah woah woah!” Steve shouted.

“No time for dilly dallying, we have a man to track down!” 

As the boys got into a somewhat heated argument, Y/n figured she wouldn’t be getting a movie any time soon. Leaning over to Robin, she whispered, “I’ll just come back later.”

The girl flashed her sympathetic look. “Are you sure? I could help you out-”

“-It’s all good, you’ve got your hands full.”

“Max, just explain to them what’s going on I’ve got this!” Dustin called out. 

“Okay, Jesus, I was getting to that!” the girl responded. 

Y/n turned, making her way out from behind the counter and toward the front door empty handed. She tried not to eavesdrop but it was hard with only them in the store.

“We need to find Eddie Munson,” Max began.

She could hear Steve groan. “Everybody with this Eddie Munson shit!”

“You’re just mad about me having an older male friend,” Dustin chimed in.

“No, I don’t, but I do have a problem with you bringing it up every five seconds.”

“I do not bring him up-”

“-Oh you so do.”

“Guys stop!” Max screamed at them. “They think Eddie killed Chrissy.”

“Chrissy Cunningham? The cheerleader? She’s the one they found dead?!” Robin added.

Y/n felt her breath hitch as she grabbed the handle on the front door. She wanted to walk out, to ignore the sad news which seemed to be a constant now in their town. But something urged her to keep listening.

“Yeah,” Max continued. “But he didn’t do it. He ran from his house last night and we just need to find where he is.”

Eddie was in trouble? Why was he with Chrissy Cunningham? Thoughts raced through Y/n’s mind at a rapid pace, but not one of them was to push the door and leave. Something in her felt like she needed to help. She could have a lead, she be useful to them.

Not deliberating any further, she turned around. “I might know where he is,” she announced. 

The four teens fell silent, turning to look at her. “You do?” Max asked. 

Dustin, swiveling in his chair and asked, “I’m sorry, who are you?”

Y/n opened her mouth to respond but found she didn’t know what to say. Who was she to them? Was she a friend? They’ve barely spoken in months. They weren’t co-workers, never working in the same place before if you don’t count the mall as a whole. 

Thankfully, Steve answered for her. “She’s a friend. Dustin, Max, this is Y/n.”

Max gave a small wave which she returned, however, Dustin got right to the point. “You know where Eddie is?”

She nodded. “Maybe. I know where he hangs out. If this is serious he probably went to Rick’s place.”

“Rick?”

“Reefer Rick? It’s where Eddie gets his supply from,” she clarified. 

“Do you know where this Reefer Rick lives?” Robin asked.

Y/n nodded. “Okay then!” Dustin announced, getting up from his stool. “Let’s go.”

“What now?” Steve protested. “This is our busiest day, we can't just leave!”

“Steve!” Max shouted at him. “This could be a code red.”

Y/n frowned at the girl's words. Code red? What was a code red? It was clear Steve understood. His demeanor changed, shoulders slumping back as his gaze softened. Looking over at Robin first she only gave a nod. Finally, he looked at Y/n. “Are you okay to show us where he lives?”

“Y-yeah. I’m off for the rest of the day so…”

“Perfect!” Dustin shouted. “Then let’s get going!”

🎬🎬🎬

By the time they were approaching Reefer Rick’s house it was already dark out. The sun had set a while ago, almost blinding her in the back seat of Steve’s car. He had apologized for the seating arrangement when they got in. She was sandwiched between the two freshmen in the back who wouldn’t stop asking her questions on how she was involved.

As she told Steve to turn left down Rick’s street, Dustin asked another question. “Are you Eddie’s soulmate?”

“What? No!” She responded immediately. “We’re just friends and barely at that. He was my dealer.”

“How do you know you aren’t soulmates?” Max asked.

Y/n paused for a moment before responding simply with, “Cause I just know.”

Every time she told people her soulmate died, they would give her sympathetic apologies. It made her sick to her stomach. She was already trying to grapple with the idea of being alone without ever meeting them. She didn’t need the weight of other people’s condolences on her shoulders. Luckily, they turned into the driveway before anyone could ask further questions. 

Everyone piled out of the car and Y/n finally felt like she could breathe. She stepped into the crips night air, breathing in like she had gone a week without oxygen. It was so refreshing, a new wave of energy washing over her. 

“I don’t see anyone inside,” Robin said, peering into the dark window near the front door. 

“What about there?” Steve asked, pointing over to the boat house. “You think it’s open?”

Max shrugged. “It’s worth a shot.”

Y/n silently followed the four teens who clearly had more experience with this code red business than her. She wondered what it could be. Up until her junior year of high school, nothing strange had ever occurred in Hawkins. It was just a small, boring town that people were barely aware of. But now… she didn’t know what it was now. 

The boat house was unlocked, much to everyone’s surprise, and they all slowly stepped inside. The only light came from the lamp outside which was now seeping through the cracks of the open door.

Quickly, Dustin dug through his bag pulling out multiple flashlights and handing them out. Everyone took one without question, beginning to search around the small room. He held one out for Y/n.

Hesitantly, she took it. “Do you always carry around this many flashlights?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he responded, like it was a normal day for him, walking away he began his search too. 

“Sorry about him,” Steve said, coming up behind her. “Sometimes he doesn’t remember that not everyone has done the things that we’ve done.”

Her head tilted at his words. “And what exactly have you done?” 

Chuckling, he responded, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” He picked up an oar, prodding at the tarp covering the boat.

Stepping closer to him, she responded, “Try me.” 

His breath hitched as his eyes flickered down to the small space in between them. She looked down too, noticing how close she had stepped to him. Heat rose to her cheeks as she peered back up at him, his chocolate brown eyes staring back. 

Y/n liked to think they had a moment, one where she forgot her soulmate was dead. One where there was still the thrilling possibility he might be her match. 

But before she could remind herself of the truth, she was slammed onto the floor, a figure rising from underneath the tarp. There were shouts and screams as something thudded against the wall. Still trying to find her bearings, she felt a hand wrap around her arm.

 “Are you okay?” Robin asked, pulling her to her feet. 

“Yeah,” she said, letting out of breath. Her throat tingled with a sensation she couldn’t quite palace, a hand coming up to graze her neck. “I-I think so.”

“Eddie, he's not a bad guy!” Dustin yelled. 

Y/n and Robin’s attention was brought back to the situation currently at hand. It was Eddie who emerged from the boat, holding a switchblade to Steve’s throat in shock. Steve scurried from underneath the weapon, trying to breath out a response. 

“We’re here to help!” Dustin continued, “This is Max, my friend who never wants to play DND.” Max gave a small wave. “And you know Robin, from band right? She plays the trumpet.”

Robin brought up her hands, mimicking a trumpet motion before regretting her decision and shaking her wrists. 

“A-and Y/n!” he said, motioning to her in the very back. “You know Y/n right?”

Eddie’s eyes scanned over to her, a sense of recognition in his features. “D-Y/n?” he said in a low grumble.

“Eddie, remember me? We used to smoke under the-”

“I-I remember,” he interrupted, his voice softer than before. Slowly, out of instinct or not, the knife began to lower, a click sounding as it flipped back closed. 

Y/n couldn’t stop herself from rushing forward, engulfing him in a hug. His hands tightened around her waist, squeezing her harder than probably intended. “Are you okay? We saw the news.”

She helped him sit back down on an overturned bucket, looking over at her shoulder to make sure Steve was okay. He was, his breaths becoming more regular and Robin soothed his back. 

“I didn’t know where else to go…” Eddie told her, trailing off as he instinctively played with the rings on his fingers.

“Well you’re okay now, got it?” He gave a small nod. “Just tell us what happened.”

“Y-you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

The words echoed through her head, the same words Steve had told her just moments before. What had she gotten herself into?

“Try us,” Max spoke out. 

He glanced at her for a moment, then around the room and everyone's eyes were suddenly on him. 

“Chrissy came to me after school yesterday, wanting to try some of my supply. Then, she tripped over a log and scraped her knee….she…. She was my soulmate.” 

He stopped for a moment, gaging the small reactions throughout the room. “Trust me, I couldn’t believe it either. We talked a little, she wanted to try some stronger stuff so I took her back to my place after the game. 

I was searching in my room for it but when I came out she was…it was like she wasn’t there? Her eyes were blank and she wasn’t responding to anything I was saying. The lights began to flicker all around us and she….she started to float. Shit, like right out of a horror movie ya know? And then… a-and then…fuck.” 

He began to stutter, whatever happened next clearly frightening him more than what he had already told them. Y/n leaned forward, rubbing a hand on top of his. 

“It’s okay,” she soothed. “What happened next?”

Looking up at her, he found the strength to continue. “H-her back slammed into the roof and her limbs…her limbs starting to break in ways that shouldn’t be possible. Then her jaw, and then her eyes…I ran out of there after she fell to the ground.”

The room was silent, nothing but the small waves echoing throughout the room. Y/n was trying to process what he was saying. Trying to find a logical explanation for what Eddie had saw.

“You all think I’m crazy,” he said, curling back. 

“No, we don’t,” Y/n said first. “But there has to be a reasonable explanation for all of this. I mean, maybe she was-”

“-there is,” Dustin interrupted her. She turned back to look at him. “W-what I’m about to tell you guys, might be… a little difficult to take.”

“Okay,” Y/n said, her attention fully on him. 

“You know how people say that Hawkins is cursed? Well, they’re not that far off…There’s another world. A world hidden beneath Hawkins.”

“B-beneath Haw- What are you talking about?” Y/n asked, confused.

“This world is like ours, but darker, and sometimes it bleeds into ours.”

“What like ghosts and shit?” Eddie asked. 

Max let out a heavy sigh, “There are somethings worse than ghosts…”

🎬🎬🎬

The last day and a half had been utter chaos. Two more people were dead and it’s all thanks to this Vecna creature - Y/n still didn’t fully understand it. 

They teamed up with even more people on their trek to Lover’s Lake and had another awkward conversation as to why Y/n was there. She even got to properly meet Steve’s ex girlfriend which was…interesting to say the least.

As she made her way through the woods, she felt someone walk up next to her. It was Max, poor Max who had been playing Kate Bush in her headphones ever since they went to the cemetery.

Y/n gave her a smile. “How are you holding up?” she asked. 

The young girl shrugged. “As good as I can be I guess…”

“That’s good…” 

They fell into a silent walk, Dustin leading the group ahead with some of the older teens lagging behind. “Can I ask you something?” Max said suddenly.

“Yeah sure, what’s up?”

“How do you know Steve? He said you’re friends but I thought we were his only friends.”

“Oh…well, we went to high school together,” Y/n began but changed her mind. “But we didn’t really know each other. I worked across from him and Robin in the mall. Kind of became work buddies.”

Max nodded along. “Is he your soulmate?”

She whipped her head toward her. “What’s with you guys and my soulmate?”

“Just curious,” she mumbled, stepping over a log. 

“No, he’s not my soulmate…” 

“Did you ask him?” Y/n shook her head. “Then how do you know it’s not him? Cause like statistically you should’ve found them by now. I mean, I have- had Lucas…I’m not sure he believes in all this soulmate stuff anymore.”

She looked up in the distance where her ex boyfriend was walking with Dustin. Their eyes were glued to the compass in Dustin’s hand. 

Y/n followed her gaze to the boys, mumbling, “I’m not sure I do either.” 

Max furrowed her brows looking back at her. She debated leaving it at that. So many people had asked about her soulmate and every time she refused to discuss the subject further. But this felt different, being with these people, she felt like she could trust them. 

 “My soulmates’ dead,” she blurted out.

It took a moment for Max to think of a response. “Oh…how do you know?”

“The night of the mall fire…I felt this intense pain, worse than I’ve ever felt before and then…” she shrugged. “Nothing. All those years of bruises and cuts gone in an instant…I haven’t felt anything since that night so, I figured they died in the fire.”

She looked next to her, watching as Max interpreted the information. She couldn’t remember the last person  she told about her soulmate. So many sorries and my condolences…Max was staying quiet, it was unlike any reaction she had seen. Something deeper was going on.

“You okay over there?” she asked.

“It…it wasn’t a mall fire…” Max said in almost a whisper.

Y/n felt her heart drop. “What?”

“It wasn’t a fire…it was the-” Max stopped herself, trying to rephrase. “Last year, one of the monsters came out of the Upside Down. It absorbed a bunch of people to get bigger and headed to the mall. We all fought it there.”

“So the pain I was feeling-”

“Was probably them being absorbed into the Mind Flayer… I’m sorry Y/n. If we stopped it the first time-”

“Hey don’t do that,” she interrupted, placing a hand on the girl's arm. They both stopped, facing each other. “It’s not your fault. It’s not any of your faults. I’ll find someone someday. It might not be my soulmate but I’ll still be happy....”

Max stared at her, not fully convinced. “I’ll be fine, trust me.” Ahead of them, the younger friends started giggling. “Go with your friends and listen to Kate Bush.”

She gave her a smile, urging the redhead to not worry about it anymore. The girl did so, walking off to join the conversation. It wasn’t long before another person took her place next to Y/n.

“Girl problems?” Steve asked, falling into the rhythm of her walking.

She rolled her eyes, “Oh yeah we were talking about our periods.” His eyes widened, trying not to comment on the topic. “Oh my god I was joking.”

“Oh,” he said, letting out a long breath. “Okay good I didn’t know what to say.”

Y/n chuckled at his awkwardness. When did he become like this? The Steve she saw in school was a smooth talker. A person who knew how to make everyone fall in love with him. But now, as they were searching for a multi-dimensional gate surrounded by freshmen…it gave him some humility.

“She was asking me about my soulmate again,” Y/n informed him.

Nodding, he asked, “So, about your soulmate…have you found them yet?”

“No, uh…Max was telling me about the Mind Flayer last year? Pretty sure they died during all of that.”

“Oh…” Steve fell silent, not knowing how to react. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, not your fault. I’ve made my peace with it.”

She looked over to him, trying to reassure him that the party’s antics weren’t the cause of her soulmate’s demise. But as she did so, she missed a root sticking out of the ground. Wobbling forward, she felt as Steve reached out, wrapping his arms around her torso. He pulled her up against him, trying quickly to help her regain her balance.

Breathlessly, she looked back up at him and said, “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he responded, backing up slightly as he became aware of how close they had gotten. His hands lingered on her back, not too eager to let go. Slowly, she began to step away, pulling both of them back to reality. 

“So…do you have a soulmate? - I mean have you found them?” She fell back into a slow walking pace, Steve still staying close.

“No, not yet. My soulmate doesn’t really feel a lot of pain so it’s been hard to pinpoint who it is. The occasional paper cut doesn’t really help ya know?” Y/n nodded in agreement. “I thought it was Nancy at first… but then she and Jonathan cut their hands to fight the Demogorgon and found each other so, clearly I was wrong.”

“Oh…well that’s-”

“-yeah…so, still looking,” he said, trying to put optimism in his tone. It was clear he didn’t believe it.

As they approached the edge of the lake, Nancy and Robin working to grab a boat, she turned to him.

“I hope you find your soulmate Steve,” she said sincerely. “You deserve someone.”

A small smile formed on his lips and he couldn’t stop himself from looking down to shake it away. “T-thanks.”

“Alright dingus, come on!” Shouted Robin. 

The two of them looked over to see Nancy and Eddie already on the boat, Robin holding out her hand for the two teens. 

Putting an arm out, Steve said, “Lady’s first.”

Smiling, Y/n grabbed Robin’s arm, tumbling into the boat where Eddie helped her down. She watched as Steve climbed on, yelling at Dustin for them to stay on shore before they began to float out onto the water.  

Nancy was quick to take control of the oars, though no matter how much stability to applied, the boat still rocked. Y/n could feel her brain begin to get fuzzy, the constant movement making her slightly sick. 

“You okay?” Eddie asked, placing a hand on her arm. 

Nodding, she tried to steady herself. “Yeah…a little too late to ask that question.”

“Oh my god what are you doing?” Robin asked, pulling the two of them out of their conversation.

Confused, Y/n looked up to see Steve tossing off his yellow sweater. Someone shined a flashlight up at him and she could clearly see the mess of curls across his chest. He was fit, but not in an overly ripped kind of way. More like someone who was born with a fast metabolism and it took a lot of effort for her not to stare. 

“What are you doing?” Nancy asked.

Steve ran a hand through his hair, leaning over the side of the boat. “Well someone has to check to see if that thing is down there.”

“Just-” Eddie began, reaching down to put a flashlight in a plastic bag, handing it to him. “Here.”

He thanked him quickly, ready to dive into the water when Y/n had the sudden urge to reach out to him. “Wait,” she said, placing a hand on his arm. He turned back, catching her eyes. “Be careful, okay? If you don’t see anything, come right back up.”

“Don’t worry I will,” he reassured her before turning and diving under.

The boat shook as he left and Robin hurled herself toward Nancy in an effort to not get wet. Slowly, as it began to settle, they waited. There was a tightness in her chest, a tension that wouldn’t go away until she knew Steve was okay.

Almost a minute and a had passed and she was growing more anxious. 

“Where is he?” she asked no one in particular. 

“He should have come up by now,” Nancy said, checking her watch.

“That’s it I’m going after-”

Steve bursted out of the water before she could finish her sentence. Gasping for breath, he reached for the side of the boat. Feeling breathless as well Y/n reached forward, guiding him to a steady grip.

“It’s down there alright,” he said.

Eddie sighed in relief, “Okay then dude get back up here.”

“Okay,” he said as Y/n began to pull him up. 

Abruptly, she stopped. There was some feeling, something tugging at her and she could tell Steve felt so too. “What are you waiting for?” Robin exclaimed.

“I-I don’t know,” Y/n began. “Steve, we have to hurry.”

“Yeah, oka-”

Before their very eyes, Steve was pulled under water, his grasp quickly leaving hers. Everyone was calling out to him, but it all felt like a distant echo as Y/n dove in after him. It was so sudden she didn’t even remember making the decision as she swam down, trying to grab a hold of her friend.

The water was making her vision blurry but she could see the outline of him being pulled further and further toward a giant red hole at the bottom of the ocean. She kept pushing through the water with all her might as she saw him disappear through the gate. Determination kept her going, knowing that wherever Steve went, she’d be going after him.

She was almost there, the slimy vines just out of reach as a pain seared through her neck. She curled up, instinctively, feeling something strong closing her air pipe. Reaching her hands out, she tried to pull it away but there was nothing there. Nothing but skin touched her fingertips as she tried to relieve herself of the pain. 

Was her soulmate alive? Was this their doing?

Then, something sharp attacked her side. It felt like something was being ripped out of her, seeking teeth into both her sides. She cried out under the water, her supply of oxygen decreasing faster by the second. 

She tried to swim forward, to make it the extra inch to the gate but the pain made her writhe, floating aimlessly in the lake. Is this how she was going to die? At the hands of her soulmate under Lover’s Lake?

In her peripheral vision, she saw something pass her. Then, arms wrapped around her waist, stinging as they collided with the pain. They pulled her down, pushing her until she was taken in by the current of the gate. 

Y/n felt as she was flipped upside down, finding herself tumbling toward a hard surface. Air finally reentered her lungs, just enough through the choking feeling that still clawed at her throat. The pain in her sides hadn’t stopped either, forcing her to roll on her knees. 

Someone knelt next to her, a hand placed on her back. “Y/n, woah, are you okay? What’s happening?”

“Munson, we need help over here?” Nancy yelled.

“Give me a second we have another problem going on!”

Y/n stretched her neck as much as she could to see where Nancy was calling from. A few feet away, lying on the floor in pain was Steve Harrington. There was some bat-like creature chewing into his side as Robin tried to swat it away. Nancy was working on another one, its tail roped around Steve’s neck.

She could barely put two thoughts together as pain soared through her. But what she could see was that her friend was in pain, in the same spots her soulmate was injured in. Whatever strength she had left was depleted as she rolled onto her back.

“Y/n, honey, you gotta tell me what to do? What happened?” Eddie shouted at her.

Through her raggedy breaths she managed to say, “H-help them.”

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Go!”

With one deep breath he stood up looking around him. Grabbing an oar, he ran towards his friend. “Wheeler! Try this!”

Tossing the wooden paddle, Nancy caught it with ease. She took it with both hands, snapping it over her knee as using the now shard wood to stab into the bat on Steve’s neck. It collapsed on impact, loosening its grip around his throat. 

As Steve gasped for air across the deserted lake, Y/n did too. Eddie was the only one who clocked the similarity, giving her a strange look as she sat up, letting all the air she could enter her lungs. 

Turning back to the group, he helped the girls grab the other two bats, pulling them out of Steve’s abdomen. Sudden energy surged through Y/n as the pains in her sides began to subside. She looked up to the group fighting off the remaining bats. She knew what all this meant. What it meant about her and him.

But for now, it could wait. She ran, helping take down the rest of the bats swarming around them. Nancy and Robin made quick work of one while Eddie and her grabbed the other. They ran in opposite directions, ripping it in half. As her piece of the creature fell to the floor, she looked back up, ready to help with the next one. But there was only one left and it didn’t look like Steve needed any help.

He slammed it into the ground over and over again, the guts of the creature spilling like candy out of a piñata. Using his teeth, he ripped off the head, letting its decapitated body fall to the ground. Nancy and Robin were quick to run to his sides, giving him support to lean on as he began to collapse.

Y/n tried to move toward him too, finding herself tripping over her own feet. She definitely hadn’t recovered from almost drowning, still feeling the tingle of water stuck in her esophagus. Eddie was quick to catch her. “Hey, I’m here, don’t worry,” he soothed.

“Guys,” Nancy called out. “We gotta move.” Pointing behind them, they watched as a giant swarm of bats was heading straight toward them.

Eddie leaned into Y/n’s side. “Can you walk?” She nodded. “Okay, let’s get going.”

Everyone was right when they said the Upside Down was an exact replica of Hawkins. You know, just a little dirtier and full of alien creatures.

They were able to find Skull Rock in a reasonable amount of time, using it as a stopping point to patch up everyone’s wounds. Though, most of the patching would go towards Steve who was still bleeding from his stomach. 

Nancy helped lean him against a rock, using part of her shirt to make a bandage since he dove in shirtless. Meanwhile Eddie helped her sit down on the one log they could find with no vines wrapping around it while Robin paced between all of them.

She lifted her shirt up carefully to find a very bruised stomach. Soulmate marks couldn’t cut as deep as the real one but they did always leave something behind. She glanced up at Steve, wounds matching the placement of her injuries. 

“You have to tell him,” Eddie said quietly.

Y/n pulled her shirt back down. “Not now.”

“We might all die here. I think now is as good as time as any.”

“I thought my soulmate was dead,” she mumbled, looking down at the ground still in shock. “And this whole time he’s been in the back of my algebra class. Working across from me at the mall…”

Eddie pulled her attention back to the present. “Listen, Chrissy died less than 24 hours after we found out. I didn’t get time, just make sure you do.”

She looked up to meet his gaze. It was softer than she was used to seeing him. He was always so stern, so broody. These doe eyes suited him. 

“I will,” she told him. “Let’s just get out of here first.”

🎬🎬🎬

Poor Robin. Poor, poor Robin. 

They had been walking through the army surplus store, gathering supplies to trek back to the upside down when they stumbled upon Vickie Sullivan. 

More specifically, Vickie Sullivan and her boyfriend. 

Robin had gone back to the trailer before Y/n could even protest, telling her it probably wasn’t her soulmate. Loads of people dated before finding their other half. But she wouldn’t listen. 

“She just needs some time,” Steve said, picking up another gallon of gasoline. 

“Yeah, I know…” she responded, pushing the cart. 

With Robin gone, this was the first time they had been alone since she walked into Family Video days before. It had only been a few days but so much had changed. 

Steve loaded another gallon into the cart, and Y/n absentmindedly pushed the it again, right into his side. He stumbled forward, using the cart to balance himself. 

“I’m sorry!” She exclaimed. 

“No it’s alright. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Deep in thought?”

Steve crossed his hands, coming around to stand next to her. “Yeah, something like that… Hey, I just wanted to say thank you.”

She tilted her head. “Thank me? For what?”

“Robin told me you were the first one to dive into the lake when I went under. That was pretty heroic.”

“Oh it was nothing,” she said, leaning toward him slightly, their shoulders grazing. 

“No it wasn’t,” he insisted, turning to face her. As she looked up at him, Y/n became acutely aware of how close they were standing. “It was really brave.”

As the words left his mouth, Steve made no move to back up. She could feel his breath on her skin, see the stubble of his mustache. He looked so calm, so unlike how they had all been feeling the past few hours…If she’d let herself, she would get lost in his eyes. 

“I have to tell you something-” she began to say, before there was an interruption.

“We gotta move,” said a voice, moving closer to them. Y/n stepped away first, willing herself to look anywhere but him. Her eyes landed on Nancy. “Jason is here.”

That got them moving. Steve took the cart, taking it to the front to pay as she followed Nancy back to the trailer. Everybody else was already inside, clamoring back to the seats they had taken earlier. 

Only this time, Nancy moved to the back, motioning for her to take the driver’s side seat. She did so, confused, before Steve came running back to them and started the car without a second to waist.

Y/n gave one last look back at Nancy who flashed her a smile of recognition. Maybe she wasn’t as good at hiding her emotions as she originally thought.

🎬🎬🎬

Being back in the Upside Down was the last place Y/n wanted to be. But if it meant stopping all of the disasters for good? She’d do anything. 

“If they get too close, go, okay? Don’t try to be the heroes,” Steve said, his attention directed at Eddie and Dustin who were staying back at the gate. 

“We will,” Dustin said, standing up straighter with pride.

Giving a nod, Steve turned back to her, Robin and Nancy, ready to begin their trek to the Creel House. They were about to leave when Eddie called out for her. She turned back, walking a foot or two to meet him halfway. 

“Tell him,” he whispered, which only made her roll her eyes. “This might be your last chance.”

“I will if we survive,” she rebutted. “Promise.”

Giving a curt nod, he backed up, letting her return to her group. “What was that about?” Robin asked.

“Nothing,” Y/n dismissed, and no one questioned her further. 

The walk to Upside Down Creel House was a lot easier when you were equipped with the right things. Thick combat boots were laced over her feet; dry clothes covering every inch of her body.  

As they approached the front door, the three girls let Steve enter first, paving a path through the vines that laced the floor. As he hoped over one, Y/n would follow, mimicking his movements. She held out a hand behind her, helping Robin and Nancy who were close to follow. The stairs proved to be more tricky then the rest, the living roots moving faster as they inched closer to Vecna. 

Steve was the first to make it up the first flight okay, helping pull Y/n, and arm wrapped around hers. Just as she was reaching for the last step, something erupted in the distance. They both paused and she could feel Nancy grab on to the bag she had thrown across her back. The sound began to soften, echoing away as a rumble took its place. Not before long the entire ground started to shake, loosening her grip.

In a series of quick thinking, Steve yanked on her arm, pulling her up the stairs to stand behind him as he reached for Nancy, then Robin. By the time shaking had subsided, all four of them were safe on the landing. Y/n took a deep breath, silently thanking that everyone was okay.

The celebration, however, was short lived. The vines reached for her ankle first, slithering up her leg until it wrapped around her waist. Another shot out of the wall, taking her wrist and pulling her flat against the surface. 

“Y/n!” Steve yelled. 

Nancy and Robin were quick to her side, already pulling at the vines as she cried out. Steve rose his axe, ready to strike down as another vine wrapped around her neck. As she gasped for air, her eyes bulging out, she saw Steve’s step falter. 

The axe dropped to the floor with a clang. Hands reached up to grab at his throat, wheezing at the sensation he was being choked. Slowly, he looked back up at Y/n, realization setting in. He fell to his knees gasping for a breath. 

“Steve?” Nancy said, looking down at him, then back up at Y/n. 

Robin looked down too, registering what was happening quicker. “Holy shit watch out!”

But she was too slow. They watched as a vine extended from the opposite wall, wrapping around him. Y/n was already in pain, already writhing from the tightness around herself. But feeling Steve’s pain on top of that…it was unlike anything she had ever experienced.

As Steve was pulled flush against the wall, his gaze never left hers. It was a silent cry for help, one look saying everything she needed to know. Did she know? How long? Get me out of these damn vines!

Nancy and Robin were soon pulled back as well, placed on either side of her. All she could do was hope her death would be swift.

She didn’t know how much time passed. It could have been minutes but with the lack of oxygen it felt like hours. Steve had closed his eyes after a period of time, the pain being too much to take. As she started to accept her fate, to fade into the darkness forever, the unthinkable happened. 

The vines let go.

She dropped to the floor, her knees scraping against the hard wood as Robin collided into her. They were all breathing heavily, trying to take in as much air as possible. After getting back to a reasonable breathing pattern, she looked up at Steve. He was staring right back, taking in deep gulps of air as they all slowly stood up. 

There was no mention of what happened. No acknowledgment that the pair of soulmates had finally found each other after so many years of waiting. Just a simple nod before continuing up the stairs. 

🎬🎬🎬

It wasn’t until much later, that they spoke again. After they killed Vecna, after the silent walk back to the gate. After Eddie and Dustin helped everyone climb back through. 

Y/n was about to walk into the trailer, following close behind with tired feet and too much dirt on her face when Steve grabbed her hand. 

She turned back to face him, already knowing what this was about.

“We can talk after we get through the gate okay?” she told him.

“No, I-I can’t wait, just…” He pulled her to the side, out of earshot from a certain young teen. “Did you know? Have you always known?”

“Not until you got attacked by those bats,” she replied softly. “I told you, I thought my soulmate died.”

“If this what you were trying to talk to me about in the army store?”

She nodded. “You have a lot of explaining to do. I’ve gotten punched a lot.”

He chuckled, head drooping down for a moment. “Well, we got all the time in the world now.”

“Are you mad?”

Picking his head back up, he scrunched his brows. “Mad? Why would I be mad?”

“That it’s me…listen, not all soulmates stay together. If you don’t like me like that then-” 

He brought his hands up swiftly, cupping her cheeks. They were warm under his callous touch, so soft and gentle but it still sucked all the breath from her.

He spoke slowly, finding the words as they tumbled out of his mouth. “I’ve…wanted to kiss you since the moment you walked into Scoops last summer….So no, I’m not mad that its you.”

Y/n’s breath hitched as he said those words, his eyes never leaving hers. She blushed under the touch of his thumb, slowly, caressing her cheek as he continued to hold her close. Bringing her arms, up, she let them rest on his extended arms. For a moment, everything else faded away and she could almost forget they were standing in an alternate dimension.

He moved closer to her, barely an inch separating their camouflage-covered bodies. “Is…is this okay?” he asked, his head drooping down slightly.

And for the first time in what felt like ever, Y/n let herself be happy. “Yes,” she responded. “It’s more than okay.”

A smile crept of his lips as he guided them down to meet hers. His lips were soft against hers, he sensation multiplied as she felt not only her senses, but his as well. She never thought she’d get to experience this side of her life. To have someone that in such a short time of knowing her, could pledge their loyalty as her partner in life.

His breath was heavy in her mouth as he let out a groan. He let his arms drift from her cheeks down her shoulders and wrap around her waist. Being held in his arms, the carefulness of his touch - it felt like heroin. 

Y/n reached up, letting her fingers get lost in his hair as he changed his angle, pressing them closer than she thought was possible. His grip tightened on her waist, pressing into a curve that made her giggle in delight.

He pulled back slightly, letting his eyes drift over her figure. She looked back at him, not hiding her smile as she relished in how flushed she had made him.

“What?” he asked, surprised by the sudden our burst of laughter.

“Nothing,” she replied, looking down for a moment to gain her composure. “Just a little ticklish.”

He rested he forehead against hers, mouth ghosting over hers at the temptation of kissing again. “I really like kissing you.”

Her smile returned. “I like kissing you two.”

Before either of them could lean back in for another kiss, Eddie’s voice rang out, echoing as the trailer door opened with flourish.

“How can you two spend another second in this shit hole-“ he paused when he saw them. 

Y/n jumped at the noise, placing a hand on Steve’s chest as he instinctively an arm around her. Realizing it was just Eddie, she let herself relax in his touch with a sigh.

“Oh…” Eddie began again, drawing a logical conclusion. “As happy as I am for you two lovebirds, those bats could comeback any minute.”

“Alright, Munson, we’re coming,” Steve said, annoyed at the interruption - even though he was right.

“Good, cause we don’t need any upside down babies anytime soon!” 

Eddie sprinted back inside, knowing if he stuck around longer, he would get both of their wraths. “Munson I swear to god!” Steve yelled leaving her embrace to run after him.

He swung the door wide open to reveal their friend already climbing up the rope. Eddie gave a salute as he let gravity do it’s work, pulling him through. Y/n couldn’t help but laugh at Steve’s sudden urge to protect her, though they both knew Eddie could do no real harm. 

“You ready?” Steve said, bringing her attention back to him. She lifted her head to see him extended his hand to her.

With a nod, she took it, ready to start the next chapter of her life.

I FEEL LIKE I SHOULDN’T BE ALLOWED TO READ THIS SHIT FOR FREE. LIKE IM IN SHOCK ABSOLUTELY FLABBERGASTED AUTHOR. your talent is seriously unbelievable like THIS SHOULD GENUINELY BE A REAL BOOK? YOU COULD SERIOUSLY GET THIS PUBLISHED LIKE IM IN AWE OF YOUR CREATIVITY WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN?!!?

i have no idea how you thought of this plot and how on earth you did this but ITS AMAZING. LIKE ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING THE STORY IS JUST SO UNIQUE AND WELL THOUGHT OUT I CANT IMAGINE HOW LONG THE PROCESS TOOK YOU. at some times i had no idea what was going on (woops) YET I WAS STILL HAVING A GREAT TIME !! everything was so on edge? like i just could not put this down even though i should’ve since it was 2AM 🧍ALL THE SIDE CHARACTERS WERE SO INTERESTINF AND MEMORABLE I LOVED HAIR SALON GIRL PLS WHEN SHE GAVE YN THE SCARF I WAS LIKE YESSSS UR ONLY NICE CUZ U THINK SHES SUNGHOONS SISTER BUT STILL 🙏😭💀

dont even get me started on hoon and yn they’re so cute 😭 tho i was kinda hoping we’d get more romance later on BUT THERE WASNT A LOT OF TIME I SUPPOSE WITH EVERYTHING THAT WAS GOING ON so im just gonna cherish the few cute moments we got like yn sleeping on hoons shoulder <3

AND PLS THE SCENE WHERE HOON LITERALLY DUG OUT THE BULLET WITH A SPOON?? 🧍🧍🧍 MAN WTF 😭 I WAS LIKE HELLO YN YOU BETTER BE SCREAMING IN PAIN BECAUSE THAT SOUNDS LIKE THE OMST PAINFUL THING EVER DAMN. then she rlly got shot again 💀 IM STILL CONFUSED ABOUT THAT SCENE WHAT HAPPENED? THEY WERE LIKE DYING IN THAT LIMO OR SMTHN BUT THEN SOMEONE SHOT HER? OR WHAT NSJNDK

anyways this is literally not enough to express what i felt reading this but it took me on a RIDE thats for sure and i thank you author for blessing us with your insane gift <33 I WILL BE SURE TO CHECK OUT MORE OF YOUR STUFF IN THE FUTURE !!!

miracle aligner | park sunghoon

or, you can’t deny that he was born to blow your mind.

synopsis: Miracle Aligner—the name itself is as mystifying as the man who bore it. Sunghoon was always aware of the magnetic attraction he exuded. Any woman would fall to their knees whenever he would grace them with his presence, no matter how hard they tried to resist. It’s not to say he looked down on the opposite sex, but his gift came with a mundanity that prevented him from experiencing the thrills he once had.

Enter a woman with the exact opposite of his abilities. You were almost invisible to the human eye, and every single date you’ve subjected yourself to ended in an amalgamation of failures. From reading dating advice to religiously following magazine articles, you did it all—yet romance never came. By coincidence, you meet the so-called Miracle Aligner one night, and find yourself completely unfazed to his enchantment. He, on the other hand, is immediately intrigued.

cast: sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: magical realism, romance, drama, thriller, crime, loads of sexual tension, alternate history set in y2k.

wc: 47.9k

warnings: RATED 17+; suggestive content; mentions of recreational drug use and the black market; loads of crime; some graphic violence ; and last but not the least, i.e., the worst crime of all, bad google translated spanish because ya girl can’t speak the language; anyway, italicized dialogue means mc is speaking in spanish or any other foreign language, since i don’t wanna butcher them any further; since this story is set in the year 2000, Kolkata is referred to as Calcutta in this fic. for basic wikipedia-level history, Calcutta was the city’s official name until it got changed to Kolkata in January 1, 2001.

a/n: sorry for constantly reposting my old works from @/dhoya. again, for sheer word count alone imo, i can’t let this one rot in the docs. i think this is one of my most original works to date despite the synopsis implying the whole opposites attract cliche. i was the proudest of this one when i wrote it last year, and i hope you guys enjoy this one. new stuff coming soon when i have the time to mellow down and write again, i promise. also, please triple check the warnings before you read. remember, you are responsible for the content that you consume. also hoon may be somewhat ooc in this one because i’m channeling 2022 weverse magazine sunghoon with the pretty rhinestones and the classy fashion week fit, not his usual, awkwardly timid yet dorky self.

playlist: miracle aligner, my mistakes were made for you, standing next to me, dracula teeth, everything you’ve come to expect, sweet dreams tn, the borne identity, and the element of surprise by the last shadow puppets.

© orpheyeux 2022. please do not repost, translate, or cross-post my works onto other websites or forums.

Prologue: Everything You’ve Come to Expect

“What is this?”

Picture this;

A flurry of rose petals slowly dances with the gentle flows of the wind as the man right next to you throws his suit jacket out from the top floor of a Baroque balcony. You watch as it hits a vintage car parked on the stone-finished streets, prompting a man with a beret to utter a string of curses in a language the two of them never even spoke. In unison, you raised your middle finger with him—a universe gesture in the purest form.

Never in your life would you have ever believed that a man would stay right by your side even after a single day.

Sure, a day seems small for most folks. Love was something that was supposed to take time, and the wait was often worth it a la testimonies through the world wide web. However, this was you we’re talking about.

Unfortunately, you were different. Different in the saddest way possible.

So as you stared at the man you now gladly called yours, you began to trace the beginning, the present, and perhaps the truth.

Keep reading

𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 ・l.f.

— "if you smell the same as someone, you will be less anxious. you'll have some peace of mind."

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬・1k 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠・felix x gn!reader 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐬・hurt/comfort, established relationship 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬・detailed descriptions of an anxiety episode

𝐚/𝐧・ this was originally intended to be a timestamp but ended up becoming something way longer and heavier. based on this thing lix said in an ep of skz code and borrows a line from natsume souseki’s kokoro. i hope this can give u some solace; love u

When you slip into your side of the bed, Felix feels a touch of cool air from the duvet being lifted off the mattress, but it’s quickly nullified by your body’s warm pressure against his as you tuck yourself into his side. He looks at you, shrouded in one of his old hoodies, glasses halfway down the bridge of your nose, one hand patting down the blanket around your legs and the other holding your phone to your face as you scan over a text.

This is far from the first time you’ve spent the night at his place, and even further from the first time his anxiety has made itself known beyond just its ceaseless simmering beneath his skin. Yet, it is the first time the two events have happened in simultaneity, and he finds himself wondering if he should tell you about the unmistakable tightness pulling at his ribs or the winding coil waiting to snap behind his eyes.

An answer follows as quickly as the question surfaces, though. You haven’t been dating long, but in only three days short of six months Felix has learned that he could cut his heart open over your hands and you’d still find a way not to spill a drop of his blood. That is the extent to which your love makes him feel safe, secure, sacred; the extent to which he believes in your ability to protect his soul, even when it isn’t something unseen and external bombarding his defenses but the most familiar enemy of all. One that bears his name and wears his face.

“Baby,” Felix says, and your fingers still over your screen. As does your heart, when you see his quivering lips and unblinking eyes.

Your phone falls upon the blanket with a soft thud.

Scrawled all over the lines of your face is the worry that Felix was so reluctant to cause, but the way your eyes soften as you look at him now is a perfect replica of how they did that time you took him stargazing on the roof of your apartment building, and breathing becomes marginally easier right away.

“What’s happening?” You whisper, your fingers swift but so careful as they find and slide over his wrist. “How can I help, angel?”

Shakily, blindly, Felix’s hand chases yours under the sheets, and your palms have hardly touched before you’re completing his unspoken sentence. You lace your fingers with his, their pads fluttering against the back of his hand, and this gives him the strength to utter, to plead—

“Hold me?”

Your free hand moves to graze the curve of his cheekbone, then to hold his nape. Then, with a flourish of movement that Felix hardly registers, you lift yourself to straddle his lap and tighten your arm where it curls around his neck, drawing him so gently into your embrace that he can all but evanesce against you.

Time ceases to exist. What proceeds is simply warmth: your hands and mouth pressing life back into his body with every sweep through his hair and “I’ve got you” upon his ear; his face gone in the cluster of fabric that marks the beginning of your hood, his hand pushing beneath the heavy cotton to seek out your bare back, his breaths timed to the quiet heartbeat he finds there.

The two of you spend what feels like multiple lifetimes locked together in this fashion.

It is somewhere towards the end of life number three that Felix realizes, dimly, arbitrarily, that you don’t smell like anything.

You’ve always come with something, be it the aromatic remnants of your childhood home that you’ve never quite outgrown, the fragrance you always dab behind your ears before leaving the house, or the telltale shampoo-conditioner combination you’ve been using for years. But right now, there is no discernible scent attached to your skin or your clothes; no olfactory indications of your person, your presence.

This surprises Felix so thoroughly that it seals his windpipe closed for a few seconds. It’s as if he’s lost something he never realized was precious until only after it’s slipped from his grasp, and the notion nearly sends him on a new spiral entirely, nearly undoes the progress that you’ve so tenderly helped him make since settling upon his thighs.

But then you shift, and, in a manner reminiscent of brushing thick, tangled vines out of the way to read an ancient stone plaque, Felix skims the tip of his nose over the hollow of your throat, and it is there that he finds the subtle scents of you that he thought he’d forfeited. And his next realization not only pries his lungs open again but brings a much-needed rush of oxygen back into them.

It is his bodywash that you used in the shower and his garment that you slipped into right after drying off. It is his blanket that you’re currently folded together in and his dormitory that you’ve carried a spare key to for weeks now. It's his hands and lips that dote constantly on your neck and waist and shoulders and anywhere they can reach like poppies vying for homes in cracked cement.

It’s not that you don’t smell like anything. It’s that you smell like him. 

Like us.

Felix knows well that anxiety is too fickle a creature to ever leave for good, but when this thought occurs to him he senses the foul apparition waver for once.

He starts to unravel himself from you after life number seven, and you expel your relief in the form of a sigh when you pull away and see the faint smile on your boyfriend's face; sense the stable in, out of the chest your hands rest upon.

The puff of air is quickly sucked back in, though, when Felix presses his lips to the underside of your jaw; to the point of your chin; to the apple of your cheek; and, at last, directly to yours. The kiss begins tense and unmoving, still riddled with the tonnage of his burden, but then his hand cradles your face with all the ardor of thank you, and his tears taste like the words I love you when they land on your tongue.

And it is perfect, as is he.

🔖 (send an ask or reply to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn

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© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.

‧ ❆ ˚ everything has changed (besides myself)・l.f.

— you spend three years loving him, six months losing him, and four hours waiting for him to get the hell out of your house. but the human heart is more stubborn than you know.

words・5.4k

pairing・lee felix x gn!reader

genres・babysitter!au, girldad!lix, nobody look at me, toothrotting fluff, more angst than originally intended tbh, exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, happy ending yayyy, non-linear storyline

warnings・cousin has a korean name and experiences one (1) minor head bump, mc is temporarily heartbroken and experiences one (1) breakdown

playlist・house song by searows・glad by tori kelly・let's pretend by del water gap・you were good to me by jeremy zucker

a/n・hiiii my loves, i'm so unbelievably excited to bring u my first contribution to my and @astraystayyh's collaboration, "winter falls" ♡ every time i write for our ray of sunshine i'm reminded of how thankful i am to love him. this fic ruined me. hope it does the same to you (smile)

I. everything

“One day,” you muttered to the toddler sitting on your shoulders, “you’ll experience something deeply, irreversibly humbling, and I’ll be there to witness your downfall.”

Byeol responded to this with an unbothered babble. She then gathered two handfuls of your hair and yanked using far too much force to be biologically possible.

You folded like a lawn chair. “Mother—!”

Oh, that word was not suitable for button-sized ears.

“—oh, my dear mother, why? Why me?”

Technically speaking, your aunt should’ve been the target of your lamentations, but all she did was produce the child presently steering you around the kitchen like you were her own personal bumper car. Your own mother was the one who volunteered you to watch said child during the first weekend of your winter break. Only for an hour until the babysitter arrives, she’d said (raising her voice, so as to be heard over your groaning).

You adored Byeol. She made scarily accurate chipmunk sounds and possessed an immobilizing fear of grapes. She bust out a dance move before she took her first steps. The girl could have you floored with laughter without being able to say more than three words at a time. Still, this was far from how you imagined onsetting your desperately-needed few weeks off. Not to mention it was now half past three; your shift should’ve ended two minutes ago.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. Byeol emitted an excited onomatopoeia like a golden retriever detecting the mailman. Your reaction wasn’t too far off; you swiveled your head in the sound’s direction, sang out “coming!” in a delighted vibrato, and twirled into the foyer, your hands around Byeol’s ankles anchoring her in place.

You cracked open the door and found yourself face-to-face with Byeol’s babysitter. The freckles scattered across his high cheekbones and sloping nose seemed to you like they were imprinted by the sun itself. His hair was dark, falling just shy of pitch black, and long, ending an inch or so below pierced ears. A few misbehaving strands rested over his forehead but did little to obstruct your view of his eyes: profoundly brown and pointed at either end, like poinsettia petals.

He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. You felt your skin warm, your heart flip. You opened your mouth. 

Then Byeol hit her head against the vertical edge of the front door, loud enough for it to echo.

The panic that seized you in that moment was truly unlike anything you’d experienced before. You caught one glimpse of the stranger’s expression (as mortified as you expected), and then you were seeing your own epitaph on the inside of your eyelids, engraved with the four words “Death by Furious Aunt.”

“Was that—?” The man sputtered, and his voice was rich and full and accented and just as breathtaking as the rest of him and holy fucking shit now was not the time.

“My fucking god,” you whispered, completely forgetting to watch your mouth. In a hurry, you swung Byeol off your shoulders and dropped to a knee. You leaned in close to examine her reddening forehead and cradled the plush of her cheek; she blinked at you a few times, fascinated by the sudden sight of your face again.

“You okay, Byeollie? That hurt a lot, didn’t it? I’m so, so sorr—”

Byeol started to laugh.

Not laugh as in those little chuckles she let out randomly, like there was something inherently amusing about the kitchen cupboard, but laugh as in a boisterous, resounding guffaw, like a great-uncle at a family gathering off one too many martinis.

This rendered you speechless for the second time in under a minute. Then, you lifted your other hand to cradle her other cheek, her face now sandwiched between your palms, and squeezed.

“I broke my cousin,” you whispered, your voice was so deathly serious that the man in the doorway had to stifle a laugh of his own.

His knee brushed against your shin as he sat down to your left, folding his legs into a criss-cross. You could discern notes of lavender and orange blossoms in the delicate cologne that clung to him, perforated the air and your mind both.

“Can I?” He asked.

“Please.”

Carefully, you shifted Byeol’s small frame towards him; the manner in which he accepted her was so smooth and practiced that there was no doubt in your mind you were watching a professional at work. He settled her on his right knee, then dipped his head to look her in the eye.

“Hi, princess,” he cooed with a dulcet smile. He curved his pointer finger, dusted it beneath her chin. “Why are you laughing, silly girl?”

Oh.

Oh.

You might just continue your lineage after all.

“Y/N-ie,” she answered, still tittering.

He looked to you with a slight tilt to his head, and you nodded affirmatively. He murmured a quiet ah. “What about Y/N-ie?”

Somehow you sensed that she was about to embarrass you and pinched the bridge of your nose—in preparation.

“P-pretty.” I knew it!

The man let out the laugh he’d been holding back since earlier and tapped on her button nose, lowered his voice to a whisper that he knew you could hear.

“I agree.” His eye glinted playfully, matching his tone. “And so are you.” The bashful, high-pitched giggle she responded with sounded eerily similar to your inner monologue.

The two of you spent a little longer on the floor of the foyer making sure Byeol was okay, and then the girl upped and made a mad dash for the kitchen while yelling something about a horse, and if that didn’t confirm that she was completely fine (albeit incredibly strange) you didn’t know what would. You found her rolling around the carpet in the room adjacent to the kitchen and left her to her own devices while you and her babysitter fixed up a small fruit plate for her afternoon snack. No grapes, of course.

He told you he usually went by Felix, but that his Korean name was probably easier for Byeol to pronounce, with its easier consonants and whatnot. You asked which name he preferred, and he said either or. He was a recent college graduate, a year older than you, who was determined to spend at least the next two years doing nothing but working out his future. He accepted the part-time babysitting position to pick up some light cash in the process.

“And ‘cause I’m good with kids,” he added, splitting apart a tangerine. “So I’ve been told.”

“Oh, you definitely are,” you said, plating a couple blueberries. “You melted her earlier.”

“She melted me. She’s so cute. And you’re so cute with her—I didn’t realize I was robbing someone of their job.”

You turned your head to regard the tot and let out a helpless laugh. Byeol tired of being a human lint roller a few minutes ago and had since moved on to staring aimlessly out the window.

“She doesn’t take me seriously, and I can’t stay mad at her,” you mused. “I would be a nightmare as her babysitter, trust me. She’s all yours.”

Felix held out two overturned handfuls of tangerine slices, to which you quickly moved the platter across the counter. He didn’t respond to your comments as he placed them on the outermost edge so that they looked like rays of sun emanating from a multicolored core. Adorable.

“Will you be around much, then?”

You made eye contact with him across the counter. On his perfect face was a teasing smirk and a subtle blush. Ah, you’d been mistaken, writing off his silence as concentration—he’d been contemplating how to best flirt with you.

“Y’know. In case I need any help teaching her cuss words,” he appended.

It was then your turn to flush a couple shades darker. “Please don’t tell her mom.”

“I won’t, I won’t.” He walked around the perimeter of the counter until he was directly in front of you; the lavender and orange blossoms returned. “On one condition.”

Not even one hour on the job and he was already trying to blackmail you? You respected it. “Which is?”

As he shifted some of his weight onto the counter, something too shifted in his smile, giving it a quality that was every bit as hopeful as it was gentle.

It was then, while Lee Felix was looking at you like that, all dilated pupils and long lashes, when you predicted that he would one day break your heart. You predicted you’d let him.

“Be around,” he said simply.

It wasn’t a question or a demand. In hindsight, you think it was more akin to a birthday wish, ill-fated the moment it hit the air.

II. has changed

Felix pulled Byeol’s hood up and over her ears, and you realized he was right about the winter coat getting too small for her—she looked like a bowling pin. You muffled your snort into your scarf.

“And what was the last rule again?” He asked, his breath puffing into the frigid afternoon in tiny clouds. Byeol sighed like she knew anything of the world’s woes.

“No barking at other kids,” came the sad reply, but a toothy smile spread across her face anyways when Felix nudged the underside of her chin. She loved when he did that.

“That’s my girl,” he hummed. “I believe in you.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” you said, and the wounded look Felix shot you was like you’d just confessed to hating kittens. “Come on—she doesn’t have a good track record. I’m allowed to have my doubts.”

“I dunno what that means,” Byeol announced with admirable frankness, and then turned around and scurried down the porch stairs, scattering fun-sized footprints across the snowy streets.

As you braced yourself to follow her, Felix stopped you with a slip of his hand into the pocket of your puffer. His fingers first aligned with yours inside the insulated nylon, then chased the spaces in between. He leaned in close, placed a kiss on the apple of your cheek, another on the corner of your mouth. This brought a helpless smile to your face, too. He had a way of melting you and Byeol both.

“It’ll be fine,” he soothed. “A little barking never hurt anybody, baby.”

“Lix, last time somebody called animal control.”

“Ermm—a little barking never hurt most people.”

That winter, Byeol was four, and your relationship with Felix was about to turn two.

Funnily enough, you’d never figured out when your anniversary actually was. Felix wagered it was the day you met, as he knew he loved you the instant he saw you; you insisted it was months later, since it took both of you an entire summer vacation of open-ended flirting and informal dating to label yourselves for real. Imagine your horror when he showed up outside your college apartment the day before your graduation, arms overflowing with flowers and gift bags brimming with your favorite things, the phrase “happy anniversary” on his lips three months before you perceived it to be. You’ve celebrated both days ever since.

You loved the ocean growing up. You didn’t get to visit it often, but when you did you would run up to the water’s very edge so that your toes dipped into the cold—and just stand there, observing, absorbing, until even the seam of your lips and the ends of your eyelashes were studded with crystals of seasalt. You found endless tranquility in its rhythmic whispers and unspeakable comfort in its oscillating waves, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.

Your fascination stemmed from the folktale your mother used to read to you before bed, about a sun goddess creating the earth. In the story, every component of nature was one of the sun’s beloved children. She allegedly loved them all, but you suspected the ocean was her favorite; it was obvious, the way she twinkled off its ebbing surface, the way every minuscule spot of light looked to you like a handprint of hers, left behind by eons of endless doting.

Felix reminded you of the ocean. Every day you grew more certain that you wanted to drown in him, to let his resonant voice and kind eyes sweep and keep you inside his depths. It was never salt that he pressed into your skin but warmth, stamped and sealed with caring hands and cautious lips. His deep whispers promised eternal love and temporary ecstasy and everything in between. You knew he would come back to you even if stranded in a different realm. And there was no questioning the goddess’ favoritism, either. The freckles on his face mirrored the sun’s very spots like an homage to his creator.

You didn’t love the ocean growing up, no. You had never loved before Felix.

The park was busy when the three of you arrived. Byeol and Felix recognized a few families as your aunt’s neighbors and hurried over to say hello. Your social butterflies. 

“I’ll be over there,” you called after them.

Felix stopped in his tracks, looked over his shoulder. It had started snowing lightly on your walk there, and snowflakes now sat atop his sable locks. He looked like a painting. “You okay?”

“Yes, yes.” You shooed them off. “Don’t worry about me. Go have fun.” 

With that, you withdrew to the sidelines, an unoccupied swingset adjacent to a baseball diamond covered in frost. 

Your baby cousin was brawny for her age, which you could’ve seen coming with how she was hauling at your hair two years ago, but even she couldn’t yet terrorize the playground without assistance. Who better to make her partner in crime than her favorite Bokkie? You couldn’t help but giggle as the two revolved around each other for the better part of an hour, Byeol’s smile colossal as she frolicked every which way, Felix’s smile worried but hopelessly endeared as he followed behind. He never let her leave his shadow. She never tried to.

It always did something to you, seeing how good Felix was with Byeol, how good he was to her. But it was there on those icy swings that you experienced a moment of strange clarity, like you’d broken the fourth wall of your own story. You could feel the winds of change blowing your hair across your shoulders. You were aware of time’s trickling from the gaps of your fingers like liquid mercury.

Your laughter dissipated to a bittersweet smile; your smile mellowed to dewy eyes. It seemed like just yesterday when Byeol was small enough to sit on your shoulders and Felix stepped into your kitchen for the first time. Now, she was scaling a rope ladder with the celerity of a crazed monkey while Felix hovered a wary hand by her waist. The muted sunlight caught on the silver rings he wore, particularly the thin, bright one on his middle finger. You had one just like it, adorning the same place. 

The last two years were the happiest of your life. Why couldn’t you remember where they went?

Lavender and orange blossoms announced your boyfriend’s arrival—that, and the sigh of fatigue that he expelled as he dropped into the swing next to you.

“I’m not cut out for this anymore.”

Byeol’s neighbor had temporarily relieved Felix of his post by taking her and his son to test out the seesaw, and you wouldn’t be surprised if the whole town could hear her enthusiastic shrieking.

“You know how people walk their dogs?” You mused. “Some dogs walk their people. She’s one of them.”

For a moment, he could only stare in disbelief at the grin creeping across your face; then, he groaned in a way that could only mean you were right on the money. You gave his thigh a sympathetic pat.

“You’re whipped, my love. It’s okay.”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, suddenly perking up. “Hey, no barking though.”

“Are we considering that a win nowadays?”

“Do you see animal control anywhere?”

“Good point.”

Felix monitored your expression during the quiet interval that ensued—saw through the melancholy curve of your lips, the pensive slant of your gaze. There was a red tinge to the whites of your eyes that hadn’t been there before.

You saw him reach for you in your periphery. His fingers brushed a lock of hair behind the shell of your ear, remained there for three slow heartbeats, and then lifted away.

“Angel,” he murmured. “Talk to me.”

You shook your head. “It’s silly.”

“It’s not.” Not even ten seconds after the last time, he reached for you again, now to take your hand and bring it to his lap. “You know it’s not.”

“It’s just that—”

Felix thumbed over the ridges of your knuckles, his touch so gentle that it could’ve unraveled a chrysalis; it certainly unraveled you. You took a stabilizing breath.

“I wish could recognize my own happiness in the moment,” you sighed, “not just in retrospect. That way, even when it comes to an end, I’d still be able to look back and say with confidence that I was happy once. I’d like that, I think.”

His brows knit together as he processed your words, and, the next thing you knew, he left his swing trembling in his sudden absence and his trenchcoat became a black blur in the cold air.

Felix rested his elbows atop your knees as he knelt in front of you, cradled your face in his hands. He was achingly beautiful always, but you truly felt your breath swiped from your lungs at the new proximity of his ethereal features: petal-shaped eyes, wind-bitten cheeks, coral cupid’s bow. A painting.

“That’s easy enough,” Felix hummed. “How do you feel right now?”

You had zero agency in the smile this brought to your face. You wrapped your hands around his wrists, your answer quick, thoughtless. “Happy.”

He pressed his lips to the space between your eyes. “And now?”

“Happier.”

He pressed his lips to the curve of your jaw. “What about now?” 

“Even happier.”

His gaze flickered to his final destination, but you beat him to it, sealing your mouth against his with urgency. The kiss that followed was so intensely loving that your head went fuzzy. How was it that you felt his adoration for you even in his pliant lips, his velvet tongue? You ran your fingers through the part of his hair. You loved when you could feel the locks flutter back into place afterwards.

“GET A ROOM!”

You and Felix pulled away from one another, wearing matching expressions of bewilderment. Byeol was approximately five Newtons away from soaring off into the stratosphere, her legs jostling around as she clung to her seat for dear life. It seemed your neighbor had a very aggressive way of seesaw-maneuvering. It seemed your cousin had a very aggressive vocabulary.

“Where did she learn—?” The two of you began in unison, then shot your heads back towards each other.

“It had to be you.”

“Outrageous—you’re the Australian here!”

“You cuss like one too!”

“Because of you!”

“So we’re just lying now?”

“Well, yes.”

Felix cracked a smile—and then the two of you were dying of laughter, his right eye squinting closed and your forehead thudding onto his shoulder. You hardly managed to get out your next words. “We have to do something about her vernacular, don’t we?”

“Oh, badly,” he replied. “Badly.”

After you expended your giggles, you nuzzled into the crook of his neck, blissful, glowing. “Thank you, baby.”

“What for?”

“Being my happiness.”

He angled your face back to his and kissed you once more, whispering I love you like it wasn’t enough that it graced your ears; he needed it embossed upon your flesh in permanent ink.

Your intermingled breaths floated up into the air like flare signals over a capsizing boat. Here marks the time we were happiest.

III. (besides myself)

He’s blonde.

That’s the first thing you notice when you see your ex-boyfriend on your aunt’s porch: the slightly off-white color of his silky tresses, grown out longer than you’ve ever seen, pushed off his forehead and tucked behind his ears.

It’s not the only thing you notice, of course. His face has thinned ever so slightly, the shadows thrown over his features by the streetlights behind him particularly opaque. His outfit is glorious, expensive, with the black blazer and white dress shirt, the top two buttons undone, the pendant of a silver necklace resting between toned collarbones. His hands are almost overflowing with what must be gifts for your family. It’s impossible to discern all of them from this distance, but you know the bouquet of white poinsettias is for your mom, the batch of brownies doused in sprinkles and icing for Byeol.

But the hair is where your gaze returns, because tucked among the platinum strands are black roots: millimeters of the color you grew to adore, peeking out as if trying to catch a glimpse of you, too.

You’re so occupied with this game of “I spy” that you don’t notice the rampant footsteps coming up behind you. Your six-year-old cousin collides with the back of your leg head-on and nearly topples you like a bowling pin.

“Is it him?” She asks breathlessly.

You come this close to berating her as you steady yourself against the wall—what did I say about treating human beings like couch cushions? But you look down to see her chin resting on the side of your thigh, her eager eyes shining so brightly that she puts her own namesake to shame. Your scolding tirade dissolves on your tongue like popping candy.

You simply sigh instead. “Yes, but—”

“BOKKIE!” She shrieks, and Felix’s head snap upwards at the sound of her voice. His tender smile melts some of the frost laminating your heart.

You crack open the door, making eye contact with Felix for the first time in six months.

“Put everything down. Quickly,” you whisper, and he obeys right away, alarmed by the urgency in your voice. A wise choice.

The last present has hardly touched down upon the wooden planks when Byeol wriggles through the doorway and charges towards Felix like an angered toro. He swivels at her bright holler of his name, lowers himself to a squat just barely in time to catch her in his embrace. The delighted laugh that leaves his mouth as he staggers backwards sounds like the sun itself; you feel lost in orbit hearing it again.

“Bokkie,” Byeol murmurs, her voice muffled in the dip of his shoulder, by the tightening of her arms around his neck.

“Hi, princess.” He kisses her temple, presses his nose against her hair. “Whoa, you’ve grown strong, haven’t you?”

“She takes taekwondo classes now,” you hum from above, and the shock in his face asks the very question that your poignant smile confirms. Yes, because of you.

Felix pulls away, cocoons her cheeks with cherishing hands. “Is that true?”

She bobs her head. “I want to be like Bokkie.”

And his eyes go impossibly, terribly soft, like he’s gazing at the horizon itself. The sight twists the knife in your gut and yanks on your tangled heartstrings. It’s all because of you.

“And kick some ass!” Byeol adds, knocking you out of your sentimental spiral. You clap a defeated hand to your forehead. Felix falls over himself. So much for fixing her vernacular.

A few minutes later, Byeol is pirouetting towards the kitchen with a couple of Felix’s smaller presents in her arms, all too happy to be of help. You linger behind as Felix takes off his shoes, your cousin’s departure leaving the two of you alone in the dim foyer.

Felix straightens. The two of you come face to face. The air hangs so heavily with unspoken words that you half expect it to start dripping.

“Hi,” he says.

You nearly laugh at the cruelty of it. The man you were certain you’d grow old with greeting you like you’ve been forced to sit next to each other on the first day of school.

“Hi,” you answer. “You look—”

The two of you say this last part in unison; old habits die hard.

“—nice,” you finish.

“—beautiful,” Felix breathes, his eyes flicking off to the side abashedly.

Your throat constricts, pulse quickens. Says you. If he was a painting before, you think he’s a sculpture now, his perfection as tangible as if hand-chiseled by the greatest artists of old. As clear as the sun’s beloved sea. You can’t tell if it’s his stylist’s doing or simply a product of him growing into himself.

“Thank you,” you reply quietly. “And thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for inviting me. I didn’t think you would.”

“I didn’t do it for me.”

No part of you wants to see the subtle wince that crosses his face at your statement, so you turn your gaze to his jewelry-laden hands instead. 

For a split second, you swear you see the same promise ring settled in the same place on his middle finger. You realize what you’re really looking at only after blinking the phosphenes from your eyes: the thin tanline that it left behind. The realization fixes and destroys you all at once.

Then, Byeol starts wailing about Felix’s whereabouts like an actress hired to spare you from this very interaction.

“Her Highness beckons.” The smile you manage feels like drying cement. “Shall we?”

On your way to the kitchen, you notice the cologne emanating from his person smells only of citrus—no lavender. Its absence steadies you, deludes you into believing that it’s a stranger you’ve just let inside.

That illusion lasts for exactly three hours and forty-eight minutes.

It’s clear that the breakup has your family walking on eggshells, but it’s even clearer that their adoration for Felix has never wavered. You’ve never resigned yourself to the restroom so many times in one night, only to stand with your back against the door, unmoving, unfeeling, listening to the low thrum of his voice through the mahogany. Chatting comfortably with your aunt, bursting into laughter with Byeol, reminding you of the time you considered him family too. 

With every glance you toss your reflection, you discover new cracks in your composure. Has he noticed them yet?

After you come out of the restroom for the sixth time, you notice a light spilling from Byeol’s bedroom into the hallway. A low Australian accent graces your ears, followed closely by a tinkling giggle, and your body nudges you towards the sounds before your head can intervene.

You give your cousin’s door a feather-light nudge. It opens a few centimeters more and grants you vision of Byeol tucked into bed, Felix knelt at her side. Both of their faces are illuminated by the flaxen light of the nearby lamp.

Felix brushes her choppy bangs out of her eyes, a teasing smile on his lips. “Can I tell you a secret, princess?”

This wrests from her another fluttering laugh; you swear he’s the only person in the whole world who makes her shy. “Sure!”

“Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“Promise.”

“Not even Snernard.”

“M’kay.”

“Or Bong.”

“M’kay.”

“Especially not Trash the chicken. I don’t trust him.”

“I know, I know, I won’t!” Byeol huffs, and Felix laughs at her outburst. You also snort into your sleeve, amused (and deeply perplexed) by your cousin’s plushie-naming conventions.

“Thank you,” he hums, and he lowers his voice enough that you don’t catch the next thing he says.

All you perceive is the way that Byeol reacts. She sits up straight in bed, resting her back against her pillow. Her features rearrange themselves slowly, awfully, like the spread of cherry-flavored cough syrup over one’s sore throat, into the furthest thing from her trademark too-big-for-her-face smile.

Your stomach plummets to your fucking ankle.

“Why?” Her voice sounds microscopic.

“Well, do you remember what Bokkie’s dream job is?”

Byeol considers for a moment. “Being a singer?”

“That’s right.” He runs a knuckle over the hill of her cheek, the action achingly familiar, immensely fond. “And I found a place where I can do that, but it’s very, very far away. I won’t be able to come home very often.”

The telltale signs appear as he speaks; the final word sets them into motion. A tear streaks down the side of Byeol’s face. It hardly leaves the corner of her eye before it’s being intercepted by a doting swipe of his thumb.

“No,” she replies.

“You've grown so much.” Another tear falls. He wipes away that one, too. “You’re growing so well.”

“No,” she repeats.

“You’ve stolen the light of every star in the sky already. The whole galaxy will be yours someday, sweetheart. I know it.”

“I don’t want it,” she whispers. “I want my Bokkie.”

His vision starts to blur also. “But you don’t need me anymore.”

“We do.”

You know the precise moment Felix’s heart pauses in his chest because it is when yours does too.

“We?” He repeats, and she nods.

“Your dream job is being a singer.” Now Byeol is the one to reach for Felix, her delicate hand cupping the curve of his cheek. Her fingers are too small to catch his tears, she tries anyways—

“But what is your dream?”

It becomes too much for you.

You turn around. A choked sob escapes from behind the hand you have sealed to your mouth, causing both heads inside Byeol’s room to whirl in your direction. You don’t care that you nearly break both of your ankles beelining up the stairs; you only care to get the fuck out of that hallway.

You topple into your room, close the door behind you, and crumble.

Your quivering hands find purchase around your folded legs; your eyes squeeze shut against your knees. Rivulets of tears cascade over your shuddering lips like ruptured barrels of wine, left in the cellars of your soul to age, to spoil.

You never wanted your grief to see the light of day. Pouring your regret over every sidewalk wouldn’t change the past. Splashing your heartache across every wall like the world’s most fucked-up mural wouldn’t alleviate the pain of losing him. He was the one who left, but were the one who’d asked him to. Feeling, yearning, mourning. Those always seemed so futile.

But you’re not just crying in this moment, rocking back and forth on your bedroom floor; you’re bleeding, the wounds you never treated igniting all at once as if exposed to vinegar, leaving you writhing and gasping in their wake. How you wish they’d been able to heal sooner. Maybe then seeing Felix tonight wouldn’t have splintered your soul like dropped porcelain.

Your door clicks open. Your breath hitches in your throat with a quiet scratch. The gulp of oxygen you intake tastes of oranges.

Every night before you fall asleep, you still think of the last time you visited the sea. The cool sand chafing against your toes, the coarse winds slapping your hair against your face hard enough to sting. The weather was terrible (you neglected to check the forecast before making the drive), but when you stepped onto the embittered coastline, you took what felt like the first real breath of your young adulthood. The fog melded to your skin as if melting a blindfold away, showing you the world in its entirety.

You return to that beach when Felix pulls you into his chest, and there’s no fog this time. Just the faint smell of lavender and your ocean, guaranteed to return after momentary departure.

Feverishly, Felix presses his lips to your temple, the apple of your cheek, rests his forehead against yours. Brokenly, he utters, “it’s you.”

You can feel his shaking in every part of him: the tickling breath, the fluttering eyelashes, the unsteady hand that reaches into the pocket of his blazer. You graze your fingers over his jaw, an attempt to steady his careening heart, only to lose yours in the fray also when he produces a small red box of unmistakable dimensions.

“God, it’s you. It always has been, always will be. Anything can change except for this.” His voice disintegrates as he speaks. You disintegrate as you listen. “Everything has changed besides myself.”

Felix leans back in to pepper kisses across the expanse of your wet features, then brings himself to one fated knee. He flicks open the lid. You don’t even spare the ring a glance; you don’t doubt its perfection. All you care to look at is the love of your life, deliquesced to adoration and tearwater.

“Thank you for being around, my dream.” His soft smile tends to your scars like ambrosia. “Will you let me do the same?”

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© forlix (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support!

· . ˚ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞

— the little mannerisms you pick up from the members of stray kids over the course of your relationship.

words・3.7k / pairings・ot8 x gn!reader / genres・fluff, humor, borderline crack, intentional lowercase, established relationship(s) / warnings・minsung’s are suggestive, touch of anxiety in felix's, jeongin's is lowkey gross LMFAO

a/n・massive shoutout to @/http.dwaekkii on tiktok for their edits about the boys' habits, which i consulted for chan, changbin, seungmin, and jeongin (and to @astraystayyh for beta reading hehe. what would i do without u). these were sooooo fun to write, hope u guys enjoy (｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )

chan + getting shy easily. poor thing gets embarrassed so quickly as it is. throw you into the mix and it’s just critical hit after critical hit. defense lowered. no health potions left. he folds like a lawn chair with a massive smile and a whiny “stooooop” every time you say something even remotely affectionate. the habit is adorable, and you love it to pieces.

but you like poking fun at it even more. “god forbid i find my literal underwear model of a boyfriend attractive,” you’d say, or something along those lines, which of course only triples his embarrassment and on more than one occasion results in him starfishing on your kitchen floor, his hood pulled over his face.

fast forward however many months. he’s still the worst compliment-receiver you know, but you discover one arbitrary afternoon that it’s rubbed off on you.

the two of you are cuddled together on the living room couch in your usual fashion, your legs thrown over his thighs and his hands tracing absently over your shins as you relay to him something you overheard on the subway. the conversation is painfully normal. you’re almost bored. you pause to take a breath, and he murmurs, out of nowhere, in the dreamiest tone: “so damn beautiful.”

“wha—huh? what is?”

“you. your voice, your face, everything. i‘m lucky.”

your expression of bewilderment persists for around ten seconds, and then slowly, so slowly, you begin to sandwich your head between your knees, balling yourself up like a spooked armadillo. chan wonders if he should call an ambulance.

“love?” no response. “what, uh, what’s happening right now, exactly?”

no response. no response. then, hoarsely, “you can’t...say shit like that…randomly.”

he notices two things after that. one, your skin is burning hot enough to fry something upon, and two, you’ve formed a fist in the fabric of his hoodie, which you only do when you’re pretending to be annoyed at him. the puzzle pieces fall into place, and he starts grinning like a madman.

“you’re…embarrassed?”

the guttural groan you emit is more than enough of an answer, and the cute aggression that overcomes chan is fucking debilitating. he wraps his arms around you and hauls you entirely off the couch and onto his lap, littering kisses over your face until it finally resigns into a matching smile. all intent to continue feigning grumpiness erased with the drop of a hat. you drape an arm over his neck.

“you’re so good to me, channie,” you sigh helplessly. “i love you.”

“love you more, baby.” he imprints these words directly upon your lips, then pulls away, giggles. “that was very me of you, by the way.”

“i know, right? i was just about to say.”

minho + butt touching. it’s quite simple, really. if lee minho is within proximity of someone’s buttocks, he will, as he lives and breathes, make it known. will it be a coy little swat or a yelp-eliciting, full-bodied grab? nobody ever knows, not even him. the unpredictability is what makes it exciting.

but it takes a while before this starts applying to you, because the way minho touches you is…different. doting. there’s no other way to describe how he always holds the nape of your neck while kissing you, how he rests a hand against the small of your back whenever he leads you somewhere, how during the nights you can’t sleep he guides you to the place on his chest where he knows his heartbeat is loudest. he even drags you into his trademark headlocks the same way one would hold an invaluable treasure. he’s so obsessed with all of you that he never thinks to pay just your butt special attention (though it is, indeed, a special butt).

you take it into your own hands. literally.

you don’t know what prompts it—maybe you’ve simply seen minho slap his members’ asses one too many times, or maybe you’re still thinking of the specific time minho slapped changbin’s ass in passing and it fucking echoed, or maybe minho just looks especially fine in this practice outfit, a skintight tee and washed sweatpants that hug him in all the right places—but you feel a new urge today as your boyfriend swings his duffel over his shoulder, circles around the kitchen counter.

he puckers up as he nears you, silently requesting his goodbye; you give it to him, relishing for a moment in the familiar, soft plush of his lips beneath yours. then he pulls away and turns to leave, and your hand acquires its target.

“go get ‘em, tiger.” thwack!

minho jumps a foot into the air. clutches his pearls and his left butt cheek. becomes the splitting image of that perplexed blonde lady surrounded by geometry.

but when he turns around to stare at you, the smirk melting across his face betrays how he really feels about what you’ve just done. good. really good.

you, meanwhile, look genuinely confused. “it’s like it moved on its own.”

minho beams. steps towards you daintily, intentionally, like a cat catching sight of a laser beam. brings a hand to your hip, murmurs, “that’s what we’re doing now?” kisses you again, for longer this time.

you fully foresee his fingers wandering to your ass to give it a gentle squeeze, but you reach up to cuff his shoulder when it happens anyways, and his laugh vibrates against your mouth. it seems you’ll be reaping what you’ve sown from now on.

(good luck.)

changbin + the Cackle™. yes, you said something exceptionally funny. yes, you expected changbin to find it funny too. but you couldn’t expect the godforsaken noise that left his mouth as he threw himself straight into the tree planter behind you.

your mind spun with frantic questions as you helped him out of the dirt. had the spirit of spongebob just usurped his vocal cords? were you on a date with the wicked witch of the west? most importantly—

“are you well?” you sputtered, which only made him laugh harder and his laugh so much crazier, so you started laughing, too. and you were goners, falling over each other until you’d been reduced to watery eyes and sore cheeks, your giggling interrupted only by the sound of you slapping his thigh every so often, heartily enough to reverberate around the little park in which you concluded your second date.

that’s how you fall for seo changbin: laughing. with a reckless, breathless abandon you didn’t think possible. stumbling across empty sidewalks, spitting noodles across dining tables, begging for mercy on studio couches. wrestling under tear-stained comforters, starting (and re-starting) silly stories, huffing into beaming kisses. the list goes on.

you never quite get used to that chortle of his, too busy enjoying its insanity to notice how your own chuckles grow shorter and shriller, how they gradually develop an edge like the chittering of a forest dweller.

you complete your transformation on your ninety-eighth date. 

no, changbin doesn’t say anything exceptionally funny. no, he doesn’t expect you to find it funny, either. he expects least of all for you to fold over the kitchen island and start cackling like cruella de vil on helium.

han turns around from his seat on the couch. chan’s footsteps come to a halt as he emerges from the bathroom. both of them have fear in their eyes as they witness your undoing.

the only thing on changbin’s face, though, is unfettered delight.

“b-baby,” he sputters with a growing smile. “are you—”

you lift your face off the marble surface and turn to face him. the entirety of your forehead and the point of your nose is covered in flour. you blow a cloud of the stuff out of your mouth like a dragon awoken from slumber.

he loses it.

the two of you make your way onto the floor in slow motion, ending in a tangled heap against the side of the counter. changbin tries to clean off the flour and smears it all over your cheeks instead. you are zero help whatsoever, smacking his bicep like that’ll help you catch your breath.  your synchronized, diabolical laughter reaches every corner of the apartment. your happiness reaches every nerve ending.

chan and han look at each other, sigh. han takes a video.

hyunjin + side-eyeing. this man is so god awful at controlling his face, bless him…and DAMN HIM.

on one hand, you love how in tune with his emotions he is, how confidently he puts them on display. and you love your synergy. you come closer to believing in soulmates every time you glance his way and discover your exact feelings written all over his features; it’s a special type of happiness, sharing a brain with your favorite person in the world.

on the other hand, you think there’s a time and place for candor, and he tends, well, not to think at all. during many a precarious situation, you’ll catch him wearing an expression so transparent that he might as well arrange the words THIS IS STUPID AND I HATE ALL OF YOU over his head in neon lights. cue a dig of your heel into his toe, a hiss of pain cut short by your piercing glare. if you’d known ahead of time that dating hwang hyunjin would have you doing so much damage control…you’d still date him, let’s be real. but you do get stressed at times.

the night the tables turn, you’re at a celebratory dinner for your coworker’s birthday. small caveat: you can’t stand her. she’s the type to spontaneously combust if she goes two minutes without talking about herself. certainly doesn’t help that she’s downing champagne like water, and her lips are looser than ever.

hyunjin comes with you, fortunately. or not. he spends the whole evening trying so hard not to laugh: snorting into his bread, excusing himself to “cough.” you think he actually starts doing breathing exercises at some point. you’re so, so grateful that he’s here, but you’re also deathly afraid that he’s gonna bring out those neon lights in front of your entire office.

then, she flirts with him.

from the opposite end of the table. perfectly wasted but still knowing perfectly well that he’s yours. the whole patio goes silent. hyunjin’s jaw hits the table.

your fork clatters to your plate.

FUCK time and place.

the side-eye you give her is devastating. truly masterful. your brow furrows. your eyes turn to slits. your gaze does the up-down-up of unadulterated incredulity. hyunjin recognizes the motions straightaway and starts smiling so hard his whole face hurts.

you take your boyfriend’s wrist and stand up. he follows suit. you don’t say a thing as you leave the restaurant, and you don’t have to. the intensity of your disdain was more than enough; anything more and she might’ve started crying.

once you’re on the curb outside, hyunjin pulls on your interlocked hands, brings you close. his lips brush against the shell of your ear. you hear laughter and his smirk in his voice.

“you’re so fucking sexy, holy shit.”

jisung + how he applies lip balm. that han jisung is the pioneer of modern day babygirlism is the worst kept secret in the world. that han jisung applies lip balm the riveting way he does, however, is unknown even to you. until one morning.

you pop into the bathroom and make your usual beeline for your toothbrush, only to end up motionless in front of the sink, staring. jisung is a bit off to the side, hair pinned back by a cinnamoroll headband, eyes glued to his phone, hand holding a tube of chapstick that you can actually see getting shorter in real time. he looks so pensive, so concentrated. how long has it been since he last blinked? you’ve half a mind to pull out a stopwatch.

finally, he rubs his lips together, recaps the chapstick, and makes eye contact with you in the mirror. a smile crosses his face, equal parts confused and amused.

“baby, your mouth is open.”

you close it. then you open it again, and your words come out in a barely-contained laugh: “what on earth did you just do?”

“what do you mean?”

“the—” you point at his mouth, then do your best impression of an elementary schooler trying to color inside the lines. “—that.”

jisung looks aghast. “that was LIP BALM.”

“no, i know what it—you’re so—i meant, why do you apply it like that?”

jisung continues to look aghast. “like what?”

“like you’re one of socrates’ prized pupils and the answer to the universe’s formation lies at the bottom of—” you step in close, reach into the pocket of his sweatpants. “—this tube!”

it might be the craziest thing you’ve ever said to him. he bursts into laughter, the kind that leaves him no recollection of what he does with his limbs, and when he can see straight again he discovers he’s pressed you gently against the counter. his fingers latched around the hem of your top, his grin inches away from yours. can’t stay away from you to save his life, this one.

“do i actually?”

“yes! holy shit, it’s so cute.” your arms circle around his neck, also without an ounce of thought, also through a fit of giggles. “no way you’ve always done that, right?”

“i don’t know. i’ve never thought about it.” a pause. a tilt of his head, with purpose. “am i…doing it wrong?”

the question is a trap and you realize it too late. your gaze drops from his eyes to his lips—a ray of sunlight glistens off the pink plush like a paid actor—then back to his eyes. let’s find out.

you lean in. so does he. and his mouth tastes and feels like melted fucking sugar. it’s such a pleasant surprise that you actually moan, and he chuckles against you. lifts you onto the edge of the sink. your mind really goes empty after that, save for one thought. i have to start doing that.

felix + checking his own pulse. you saw it from afar, the first time.

he stood by the stage’s entrance just before from curtain up, pointer and middle finger pressed against the side of his neck. eyelids sealed closed, chest heaving. you tilted your head, puzzled. worried. then the concert began, and you pushed the image to the back of your mind.

it returned to the forefront right before bed.

“you do it when you’re nervous?”

“yeah. forces me to ground myself. turns off the world for a bit.” the hand rubbing circles into your back paused. “wanna give it a go?”

“what, checking my pulse?”

“mine.”

you lifted your head off the pillow. felix took your hand from where it sat upon his ribs, isolating two fingers and nestling them over his jugular. his quickened heartbeat pressed into your skin like the world’s gentlest tattoo.

the sixty seconds began and concluded in total silence.

“well?” he whispered.

“ninety-three,” you answered, lightheaded from the sheer intimacy of it all. “you’re nervous right now?”

“something like that,” he hummed. pulled you down, kissed you deeply. there were no more words exchanged that night.

the habit surfaced more than you knew. while driving to visit your parents. after a stupid argument with a bouquet of flowers tucked beneath his free arm. you started doing it for him in the times he couldn’t, and he’d cover your hand with his own and kiss the top of your head silently, gratefully.

two years have passed since, and you’ve vanished from the dinner table.

felix asks the nearest waiter for directions to the restrooms. you don’t notice when the door swings open, unmoving in your spot over the sink, your pointer and middle finger pressed against the side of your neck. 

his hand finds your hip. you let him turn you around and bring you to his chest; he glances at the crystalline droplets studding your lashes and falling from your cheeks. his eyes convey what his mouth doesn’t need to, not anymore.

let me.

you do.

his fingers replace yours the moment you drop them from under your jaw, the movement like clockwork. he counts your every heartbeat with unblinking concentration, his heart growing heavier the higher the number climbs.

the sixty seconds begin and conclude in total silence. 

“well?” you whisper.

“hundred and six,” he answers. to his confusion, a smile pulls at your lips. 

he wonders if it’s a trick of the bathroom lights when he sees the tiny box you pluck from your pocket, but there’s no mistaking the reality of the diamond ring that sits behind its open lid.

the earth slants under his feet.

“crazy.” you giggle through your tears, run your thumb over his cheekbone. “that’s how many years i want with you.”

seungmin + poking eyes(?) he’s hardly touched puppym when your voice is slicing through the living room air like a fucking beyblade. 

“KIM SEUNGMIN, UNHAND HIM THIS INSTANT.”

do you have a sixth sense just for this? he throws his hands up in exasperation. “he’s literally me. i’m allowed to do whatever i want with me.”

“he’s not you, he’s our son.” you pop out of nowhere to swipe the plushie from over your boyfriend’s shoulder. “my son, if you keep this up.”

“just say you hate me and my preferred avenues of self expression.”

upside-down, he watches you dust off puppym’s face and smooch his forehead with a tenderness that makes seungmin unhappier than he lets on. you then tuck him into your jacket pocket. the little shit’s expression looks strangely smug poking out of its cotton capsule.

“i’m asking you to not gauge his eyes out, not to deliver me the holy grail,” you say. “you’ll survive.”

but then he feels your hands on either side of his face, and you lean over him like the mj to his peter, leave a kiss on the space between his eyes, too. he has zero say in the bashful smile this brings to his face.

“but why do you do that, seriously?” you mutter.

“i have no idea,” he replies. “but it’s fun. try it.”

“i’ll think about it.” you lean in again, and he nearly forgets what you were talking about in the first place when you kiss him on the lips this time. “okay, i’ve thought about it. no.”

“hate you,” he says despite the literal hearts in his eyes, and then you’re off to work.

puppym takes strikingly after his father. they have the same bangs. the same compulsively squeezable quality. the same little :3 that can only allude to sinister plottings. you’d be loath to admit that you sort of comprehend seungmin’s poking predisposition.

one night, seungmin falls asleep before you even finish your nighttime routine, and you spot in his peaceful, upturned face an opportunity.

you lie belly-down on your side of the bed. your fingers splay into a peace-sign in the air. your smile stretches further into a cheshire grin the closer you bring your hand. you’re just about to reach the ends of his eyelashes when—

“I KNEW IT!”

you almost catapult into the ceiling. then you try to make a mad dash for the bathroom. but seungmin shoots a hand around your wrist like he’s actually peter parker and pins you down before you so much as take a step. your only remaining option is to sulk about your foiled plans. (and blush, because, well, you’re under him.)

“amateur,” he tsks. “you gotta test my breathing to make sure i’m asleep first. shit’s foolproof.”

you blink at him for a few seconds. his words finally click.

now you almost catapult him into the ceiling.

“HOW MANY TIMES?”

jeongin + eating food in one bite. so you might be an instigator.

“hwuck,” he grumbles around the whole ice cream cone in his mouth, face scrunched up in a brain-freeze-induced wince. “ayee ith waz a bah iyeah.” (translation: fuck, maybe this was a bad idea.)

“you got this. just take it slow,” you urge, except he’s stopped moving and speaking and closed his eyes as if he’s descending into a deep sleep. you’re actually concerned for about two seconds, and then his jaw begins to oscillate leisurely like an elderly cow in his favorite pasture. false alarm.

after some time, he swallows, beams. “so am i the fucking best or what.”

“yeah you are,” you echo, and he swings an arm over your shoulder, plants a chocolatey kiss on your temple. the two of you celebrate his daesangs with less enthusiasm.

“when are you doing that with me, by the way?”

“the one-bite thing?” he nods. “mmm, coaches don’t play.”

“mmm, this one will.”

“doubtful.”

fast forward a few weeks and you, jeongin, and his younger brother are sitting cross-legged on the porch in his backyard. three full-sized oranges rest in the center of your makeshift circle. damn is yoon hard to say no to. (runs in the family.)

“the rules!” he declares. “eat the orange whole! first to swallow it wins! you can’t spit it out!”

you wait. “is that it?”

“yes!”

why was the delivery so grand?

jeongin places a fond hand atop his brother’s head. “i’ve brought you a new loser, yoonie. get excited.”

you feign an indifferent scoff, but jeongin spots the fire that ignites behind your eyes like that of an anime protagonist, the resolute grip with which you palm your orange. he smirks. he’s never known you to take trash talk sitting down. or sitting cross-legged on his porch.

yoon counts you off. “ready…”

“good luck, coach,” jeongin sings.

“shut up, pipsqueak.”

“set…GO!”

in amusing unison, you and yoon try and fail to fasten your teeth around even half of the fruit. jeongin, meanwhile, fits the whole thing into his black hole of an oral cavity and launches into that dumb cow impression again.

desperate times call for desperate measures.

you rip the orange from your lips. “yoon! your brother’s ticklish, right?”

both yang siblings’ eyes widen—the younger’s in growing delight, the older’s in impending horror.

the latter reacts first. “ay, ay, ay, ah ahes eh ooles!” (translation: wait, wait, wait, that’s against the rules!)

but the former moves first, and you’re right behind him.

jeongin weakens when the younger boy assaults his sides, crumples when you target the back of his neck, the sounds leaving his mouth getting progressively louder and somehow even less intelligible.

he eventually has to spit out the orange to avoid death by pulp going down the wrong pipe and spins around in indignation, wiping at his chin with the back of his hand. but his annoyance—

you’re back on the floor, gnawing hopelessly at the the orange again. “ih ih eawahin, ooh.” (translation: this is embarrassing, yoon.)

yoon replies, “huh?” (translation: huh?)

—dissipates, immediately.

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend ・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp ・ @automaticpersonabatpaper

© forlix (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support!

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 – 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⤥ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⤥ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬!𝐀𝐔

⤥ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐣𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬, 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐯𝐬𝐞, 𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞/𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬

⤥ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐀 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞, 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬. 𝐀 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲'𝐬 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤.

⤥ 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: 𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍, 𝐍𝐂𝐓'𝐬 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧, 𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄'𝐬 𝐓𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢, 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐘'𝐬 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐚

⤥ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 | 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒: 𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆

⤥ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓: 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝟓𝐓𝐇, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 | 𝐄𝐍𝐃: 𝐓𝐁𝐀

⤥ 𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐘 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⤥ 𝐀/𝐍: 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬!

⤥ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎: 𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄: "𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬"

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑: 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄: 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗: 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐲

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍: 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲

⤥ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: 𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐲

...

𝐀𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠!

"i did a thing."

— in which hyunjin needs an expert opinion about his newest piercing.

words・1.4k / pairing・idol!hyunjin x gn!makeup artist!reader / genres・fluff, established relationship / author's note・takes place in the same universe as places, places! and crying lightning but can be read on its own. @astraystayyh your children are back :’)

The parlor door jingles. Hyunjin emerges onto the chilled pavement with his phone pressed to his ear, and you pick up on the fourth ring.

“What is it? I’m busy.” The way your voice shrinks substantiates this claim, like you’ve darted to the other end of the room promptly after accepting his call. “And you’re on speaker.”

Hyunjin ducks into his car and sits back against the nylon with a grateful sigh. He finds himself constantly ill-prepared for Seoul’s Januarys. “Busy with who? Remind me.”

“You wanna say hi?” You ask the person in your company. Who is it? He hears them ask, to which you answer: Hyunjin. You say it softly, in the sense that you’re far away and speaking under your breath, but softly, in the sense that your tongue caresses every syllable of his name with that tacit fondness he’ll never tire of.

He notices the ditzy smile on his face only when he glances into his rear-view. He’s long given up on wiping it off.

A familiar voice drifts into your receiver. “Mr. Hwang!”

Ah, that’s right—you’re working on Aespa’s new music video for the next two weeks. Today must be the first day of filming.

“Hey, Ningning! How are you?”

“In a predicament, honestly. I have the biggest crush on my stylist, but so does this other guy…”

“Wow, sounds rough. Best of luck.”

“Oh, I won’t need luck. I said predicament, not competition.” 

His jaw hits his wheel. “Okay, we’re boxing. Let’s go. Earrings off.”

“Say less.”

You’ve withstood enough. “Alright, nobody is boxing anyone—do not touch your earrings, Ning, what’s wrong with you? God, Hyunjin!”

Now you say his name sternly, hopelessly, like he’s just knocked ten years off your lifespan. He almost likes this version more. He fell in love with you listening to it, after all.

“Did you call for any reason aside from threatening my clients?”

Oh, right. He did.

Hyunjin glances into the rear-view again, intentionally this time. He moves aside a lock of maroon hair to review the silver studs glinting off his right eyebrow.

He smirks.

“Am I allowed on set?”

Half an hour later, Hyunjin reaches the filming site and runs into a few staff members who are so surprised to see him they nearly forget to question what he’s doing there.

But they do their job, and he humors them, utters your name and the word “boyfriend” back to back. Then he watches their eyebrows disappear into their hairlines and basically prances into the dressing rooms.

He loves that everyone knows you. He loves that everyone knows that he loves you.

You were out of bed before he opened his eyes this morning, and he blooms at his first sight of you today, alone in the lounge, curled up on the couch and browsing through your phone. Eyeshadow stains your fingers and a pen sits behind the cuff of your ear. Your figure is framed in a (his) white cardigan with a red heart stitched over its left lapel. So professional, so pretty, that he doesn’t know what to do with himself, so he uses his words instead.

“I did a thing,” he says, plopping onto the cushion next to you.

You look at him, shut off your phone. “I figured.”

“Promise me you won’t get mad.”

“No.”

It was worth a shot. “Can you blink, at least? You’re scaring me.”

In turn, you stretch open your eyes and hold them there. “A blink would be more than you deserve right now.”

Insufferable. He unleashes a bashful laugh and singular clap and looks back at you just in time to see a matching smile on your cordate lips. And to see you blink.

“Seriously, though, no more suspense,” you plead. “What on earth did you do? Should I be worried?” 

You tuck your hand around his bicep and tug lightly at his arm, and his insides pirouette at the gesture.

“No, no,” he answers, letting you pull him close, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I was being dramatic. It’s nothing, really.”

You catch him as he’s trying to leave. A light finger hooks beneath his chin, an anchor to keep his face a mere few inches away from yours.

You look him in the right eye, then in the left, your expression stoic, scrutinizing. He doesn’t remember where he looks, in the meantime. He’s slipping and sliding out of his right mind, drinking in your long lashes and curved cheeks, wondering what heroic deed he performed in his last life to be able to study beauty in such proximity in this one.

“It’s not nothing, is it?” You query, tracing the tip of your pointer finger over Hyunjin’s cupid’s bow.

“No,” he exhales. “It’s not nothing.”

“Did you get it on your face?”

Of course you already know.

He nods, and the finger moves to his lower lip, gently indenting the glossy plush. 

“Hot or cold?” 

“Cold.”

The finger runs over the bridge of his nose, then the perimeter of its prominence, like the drag of a feather. 

“Warmer.”

You lift a brow, give the side of his face a small nudge, and say, turn. The word comes out in a very stylist-esque manner, and you and Hyunjin realize this at the same time, judging by the synchrony of your quiet chuckles.

“Force of habit,” you murmur, and move his hair out of the way and lean in to examine his ear. Nothing new there. He turns his face the other way before you have to ask. Nothing new there, either.

When he looks at you again, your gaze has locked onto his eyebrows. You cock your head slightly to one side as it dawns on you what he’s done.

“Warmer,” he offers anyways, his smile small, his pulse rapid.

With a flourish of movement, you push his purple locks all the way off his forehead. Hyunjin holds his breath. Your expression goes blank. 

But it’s not blank, not really. One just has to know where to look. (He does.)

Your eyes darken fast as if caught in a solar eclipse, your pupils doubling in size, your irises quivering slightly. Your mouth opens, then closes, then purses into a thin line as if suppressing something explosive. Your cheeks blush at their very outskirts, along the edges of your face and the slants of your cheekbones, like how the first rays of sunlight always skim the mountaintops first.

He hardly notices the finger you bring to brush over the studs, so carefully he doesn’t feel the contact.

He’s too busy basking in his victory.

Neither of you say anything for a long while. You lean back, then right, then left, your hand pinned to his hairline, your gaze superglued to his brow. He simply sits still, feeling like one of your French girls, simpering, simping.

“You really did it,” you finally say.

“I did,” he chirps. “Any notes?”

At the next part of your lips, your waiting smile overtakes them at long last. You duck your head to conceal it like he hasn’t already melted at its mere image. You deliver your answer to your knees.

“No?” He repeats incredulously, teasingly. “That’s a shame. I really could’ve used an expert opinion.”

You roll your eyes hard enough for them to tug at your sockets. His boyish grin wipes away your feigned irritation like warm cotton.

“Fine,” you grouse. “Look at me.”

He does. You look back.

“It's nice," you deadpan.

Your resolve wobbles.

"Complements your face…shape.”

The ‘p’ sound pops, and you lose your shit.

The sun fully risen now, you bury your burning face into your hands, your shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Meanwhile, the raucous cackle that leaves Hyunjin’s lips causes the intern hurrying past the lounge outside to jump so high he actually lets go of his coffee cups before snatching them back out of the air with a relieved groan. He doesn’t get paid enough. 

You think you’re getting paid too much. 

“I love it, Hyun,” you whisper. “You’re beautiful. I don’t tell you that enough."

His heart beats so rapidly he thinks it might take off into a sprint; his laugh dwindles into a ditzy smile, one he’s long given up on wiping off.

“You know nothing about that word,” he replies, softly.

You bring your lips to his. His fingers wrap around the crook of your elbow. Yours begin curled in the silken hair at the back of his head. The pen behind your ear falls into the cracks of the couch.

“I’m still mad at you,” you sigh against his mouth, your own statement debunked by the inevitable drift of your touch back to the metal lodged in his face.

He doesn’t need to call you out. You do it yourself: “Ugh. I’ll be mad at you later.”

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@skzms・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp・ @automaticpersonabatpaper・@aceofvernons・@linos-kitten・@newhope8

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

me rn

‧ ❆ ˚ 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝・h.j.

— stars flare brightest in the absence of light, and you see his clearer than day.

words・6.4k

pairing・han jisung x female reader

genres・college!au, friends with benefits to lovers, snowed in trope, smut, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS THAT INTERACT WILL BE BLOCKED, angst, ANGST, you have been warned, hurt/comfort, i can't write normal fluff to save my life, happy ending!!!, semi-slow burn

warnings・depictions of insomnia, recurring nightmares, graphic violence, character death (in the nightmare), fears of abandonment and falling in love, alcohol consumption, humans helping each other heal. smut warnings under the cut

playlist・stay - acoustic by jonah baker・all of me by big gigantic・babydoll (speed) by ari abdul・oasis by exo・volcano by han

a/n・hi, here's my second installment of winter falls. writing this was immensely challenging and twice as meaningful, so feedback would be greatly appreciated. thank you to my may for being so fucking instrumental in piecing together this rollercoaster—this one is for you, i love you. thanks to my sahar for everything, always and forever. and thanks to all of you for being here. happy new year ♡

smut warnings・spitplay, unprotected piv, please practice safe sex!!!, car sex, dirty talk, jisung's dick game is kinda crazy, squirting, lots of aftercare

Every time Jisung closes his eyes, he sees somebody’s back.

It’s leaving. Traipsing somewhere he can’t follow. He tries to chase it—he always does, he never learns—but the premise doesn’t so much as surface before the ghosts circling around his ankles go for his throat instead. They snare him by the shoulders, force him to his knees, slam his forehead into the permafrost hard enough to break bone. They make sure the next time he tries to move will be the last.

So he remains, keeled over in the cold, until tearwater clings to his lower lashes in small icicles. Until bloodstained snow coats his lips like the manifestation of a curse. Until the back has disappeared.

Who does it belong to? He’s left to wonder. Where is it going?

Why can’t I follow?

Then he wakes up.

No longer does he lay awake for hours afterwards, scouring the dream’s every frame for his answers.

Now, he tosses and turns in clammy sheets until his exhaustion wins.

Now, he welcomes sleep like a miracle granted by some pitying god.

You see him.

Through a living room packed with red-faced partygoers and dissected by oscillating strobe lights, albeit, but you see him anyways. 

Jisung can barely make out the rest of your face—he blames the lighting, or the soju, or both—but your eyes alone turn him to glass. Not a fancy vase through which the world distorts, but a simple pane that puts him and his ghosts on full display.

He hopes you like horror movies.

Felix knows you, because of course he does, and Jisung has never been happier to call the extroverted Australian his friend than when you come over to say hi. You stumble out of the crowd all smudged makeup and sweaty skin, your figure hugged by a short black dress with two diamond-shaped openings just above your hips, your glossy lips curved in a drunken smile. Jisung immediately wants it against his mouth.

Instead, it disappears behind his friend as you pull him into a quick hug. A few wisps of your hair dust over Jisung’s arm, momentarily replacing the smells of grease and vodka with cherry blossoms and vanilla.

“Lix, hey!”

“Darling, it’s good to see you! Feels like it’s been ages.”

“I know, right? How are you? How is everything?”

“Good, thank you. Just happy the semester’s over.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Then you go to lift your drink and discover thin air in its place. “Or I won’t. Whoops.”

This prompts Jisung’s first contribution to the conversation—and his first effortless laugh in a long while.

“Eventful night, huh?”

He meets your gaze from all of two feet away this time, and his knees buckle under him. That gaze, fuck. So clear and true, like a prism of glass refracting light into a rainbow. He would let you refract him a thousand times over if he had any light to give.

“Maybe,” you giggle. “Seems I’m a little too happy the semester’s over.”

“Wanna not get a drink to celebrate?”

Your expression flickers. Not in a bad way, more like you hadn’t expected him to ask so soon—or for yourself to have your answer so quickly.

A strobe light catches right under your eye and refracts the color in your blushing face. A rainbow.

“I’d like that.”

He tilts his head towards the kitchen. You give Felix’s elbow a light squeeze before moving past him; he gives Felix a glimpse of his growing smile before falling into step behind you. The blonde shakes his head, throws back the rest of his beer, then swivels at the sound of someone calling his name from across the foyer.

Felix will get drunk enough to forget the sight of you leading Jisung up the stairs, two bottles of pink lemonade tucked under your arm. Nothing stronger, as promised.

Jisung asks his question an entire minute after he intends to. “Where are we going, by the way?”

“Somewhere I can see your pretty face without having to squint,” you reply, and his stomach tumbles like a schoolboy with a valentine.

You don’t stop at the second floor. Instead, you nudge open a door Jisung swears just materialized to his left and emerge into the night air.

It’s warm for December, but he’s still met with chilly winds licking down the sides of his neck. That’s not the only reason he shudders, though. Below his feet, he finds a metal platform akin to that of a fire escape. Above his head, a staircase that looks one forceful step away from dropping off the side of the building.

You turn towards it. 

In a hurry, he sputters, “I’m, uh—I’m not sure about this.”

A beat passes. Your hold on his wrist loosens, not to let go, just to trace wordless reassurance down the back of his hand. Your fingers feel perfect sliding into the spaces between his, like drops of honey in the craters of soufflé pancakes.

“It’s safer than it looks, I promise.”

Jisung heaves a sigh. It seems saying no to you is an impossible task.

You’re right, though. The iron rungs are surprisingly rigid beneath his feet, and the two of you make it to the roof with no trouble. He does stumble when you pull him up onto the gravel, but it’s intentional, a purposeful blunder to have you closer. To snag another glimpse of that blush, another trace of that floral vanilla.

“Sorry,” he whispers almost directly upon your lips. And that earns him all three.

The next hour evades him for the most part, and Jisung is pissed about it. He’s with the woman of his dreams under a sky so clear it’s almost lustrous and he’s too shitfaced to recollect when he gave you his hoodie to wear; what you said that made his lungs capsize with how hard he laughed; how you ended up so close to each other, your legs strewn over his lap, his hands tracing over your thighs.

Thankfully, he remembers a few things. He remembers how frighteningly easy you are to talk to; he remembers your habit of smacking his stomach when you get flustered; he remembers you getting flustered a lot. He remembers the timbres of your different laughs and how your stunning features crinkle with each. He remembers feeling like a pane of glass in front of you, just like he had downstairs, and he remembers liking it, somehow. Liking the way you see through him, the way you allow him to just exist as he is. Liking the way you acknowledge his ghosts with such nonchalance, inviting them over for tea and biscuits.

He wants to remember everything about you.

It’s not often he wants to remember anything.

Eventually, your conversation comes to a natural close. In its absence, Jisung notices that the alcoholic sludge in his brain has largely diffused; with it, the rumbling bass of the party below. The full moon hangs at its highest point, blanketing the two of you with anticipatory silence, nudging you towards the only topic you’ve yet to breach.

He meets your gaze again, from all of two inches away this time, and his insides twist.

“You’re still drunk, aren’t you?”

You blink at him, not following. Then he leans his forehead against yours, lets his eyes flicker to your mouth with such unbridled want that you’re instantly dizzy—and no longer confused.

Regret pools in your eyes moments before they close. “Yes, I think so.”

Your lips are so, so close that he can feel the air shift between you when they move, can feel the soft warmth emanating from them. Jisung pulls away before he does anything stupid.

You do the stupid thing for him.

You push his shoulders to the plaster behind him, push yourself onto his lap with a swing of your body and a slotting of your legs on either side of him. 

The plush of your thighs hugging his hips, the curves of your breasts pressed against his chest, Jisung tries to stare up at you, perplexed, aroused. But you’re so close that he can’t, so he settles with whispering upon the underside of your chin, “what are you—”

“Gimme your lemonade.”

The authoritative words come out in a slurred haze, and he all but hastens to oblige. 

You pluck the plastic bottle from his wavering grasp. His empty hand hovers as if uncertain where to go. But matters as trivial as hand placement drop off his mind’s precipice as he watches you unscrew the cap, the slope of your neck illuminated by spindly moonlight, and without thinking he pushes his hands beneath the hem of your—his—hoodie.

The skin of your waist is warm and smooth where his fingertips are cold and calloused, the juxtaposition unimportant in your reciprocal desires to touch and be touched.

“Open,” you murmur.

His jaw goes slack, firstly from pure disbelief. Then, obedience. The dark locks that obstruct his vision of you fall away as his head meets the brick half-wall behind him, as if the midnight breeze itself mandated their removal.

You pour some of the pink liquid past Jisung’s parted lips. Stray rivulets slip down his cheek and vanish beneath his neckline. You break eye contact to follow their path with dilated pupils and fluttering lashes. With unadulterated desire.

He swallows, gently, and feels the sweet substance surround his tonsils.

He swallows, forcefully, when you wrap your lips around the bottle, the plastic still slathered in his spit.

The swig you take is long, deep. Your throat bobs and your eyes close as if you’re savoring a finely-aged nectar. Then your lips are popping off the opening with a soft thwock, leaving a thick strand of saliva to suspend, suspend, suspend until the very second it’s about to drop, which is when you collect the residue with a deft swipe of your tongue.

“A placeholder,” you breathe, and Jisung’s head careens. A shared bottle. An indirect kiss.

“You’re a monster,” he croaks.

You giggle and lean down, curling a hand around his cheek, pressing a wet kiss to his Adam’s apple.

“Tomorrow, if we’re both sober…”

One, two, three pecks up the length of his jaw.

“...and you still remember my address…”

A suckle to the lobe of his ear.

“...you can kiss me, for real.”

A trembling breath.

“And then some.”

Jisung moans, loudly.

Thankfully, he remembers a few things.

He shows up at your place shortly after sunset the next day. You swing open the door, your face already alight with your world-ending smile.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

Then he’s kissing you like a man famished.

Jisung learns to love your back, that night. He loves its dips and curves, loves its rise and fall. Loves how it arches into him, how it looks drenched in his cum. It’s the back of his dreams.

The back in his dreams keeps walking.

Jisung has never liked winter.

He has never liked its winds, whispering woefully as if mourning something unnamed and unseen. He has never liked its palette, whitewashing the world as if refracting a rainbow in reverse.

He has never liked cracking open his eyes and seeing the scenery of his nightmare outside his window. Nor does he like trudging over the sleet as if weighed down by the same ghosts that break him time and time again in his dreamscape. They love winter. 

And this winter, he swears, is the bitterest yet. On the nights when he’s allowed to sleep, the nightmare comes in such sharp relief that he thinks he’d rather anything else, the ghosts meaner, the blood redder, the silhouette slower. It’s an act of mercy when he’s still awake by the time bleached sunlight perforates the curtains, resting upon his salted cheeks and balled fists.

This winter, it is not just dislike that he feels towards the gray winds—it’s hatred. A maelstrom of loathing so large and dark that Jisung no longer knows where it’s headed or what it’s directed to. Or who.

When winter break comes to an end, he’s probably the only person who’s happy about it.

His friends certainly aren’t, looking like a line of angry nutcrackers with their folded arms and thunderous faces standing outside Greem Cafe.

Jisung calls out a greeting as he jogs towards them, and cue the grumbling.

“What is there to smile about? Enlighten us.” That’s Hyunjin. “I have to deal with four finals and three essays in the next five days and this guy is smiling.”

“He’s accepted his fate, I reckon.” That’s Felix. “We should do the same, boys. Let ourselves down easy, y’know?”

“No, no, he’s smiling because he remembered to bring me his chem notes.” That’s Jeongin. “You did, right? Please say you did.”

Jisung is stunned into silence. “Can I not be happy to see my friends?”

“No,” Hyunjin and Felix reply in unison.

“My bad,” he sighs.

“My notes,” Jeongin repeats.

“I have them, dude. Let’s sit down first.”

The younger boy shouts an impassioned “THANK YOU” at the sky like the clouds just saved his GPA. Jisung reaches for the door to the café, then stops at the sound of Felix’s voice.

“We’re waiting on one more person.”

He turns towards the blonde with puzzled eyes. He’d been under the impression the study session would comprise just them four.

“Who?”

Felix’s response falters on his tongue when he catches sight of something in the distance, and his face changes in a way Jisung’s seen before.

“Look behind you.” Felix shuffles past him, raising his voice to shout, “yo!”

Jisung glances away from the newcomer as quickly as he sees her. It’s not until his eyes pivot to the fire hydrant across the street that he processes her identity.

In one second flat, his mind clutters full. He thinks back to that party, when all it took was the sight of your smile for him to theorize you were the most exquisite thing ever made. He thinks back to the next evening, when he kissed you and verified his hypothesis. He thinks back to what followed and would continue to follow in the few days that remained before break: entwined tongues and emblazoned hickeys, whitened knuckles and whiny praise, snapping hips and shaking bedframes.

This winter, Jisung swears, is the bitterest yet.

But seeing you, the scarf wound multiple times around your neck doing nothing to hide your gorgeous smile, feels like catching a fragment of summer in his frozen hands.

“Thank god,” Felix groans before embracing you. Collapsing on you, more like. “I’m saved.”

You reach around to pat the boy on the back, your eyes brimming with laughter. “Lower your expectations, please. I did well on one exam.”

“You aced the midterm. That automatically makes you a rocket scientist,” Felix corrects, his voice muffled into the shoulder of your coat. A few beats of silence pass. Then, “this is comfy.”

“Okay, okay, let’s go get some caffeine in you,” you giggle. “We have a lot of ground to cover today.”

Felix straightens up sleepily. And sadly. “Superb.”

Jisung hangs back as you introduce yourself to Hyunjin and Jeongin. He doesn’t even notice his growing smile until you’re standing directly in front of him and for the first time in three weeks there’s the smell of cherry blossoms in the air and a rainbow shining on his face again.

“Hi,” he offers.

“Hey,” you reply.

Hyunjin is the one to shatter the prolonged silence that follows. “Are you guys betrothed?”

Felix and Jeongin stalk into the café snickering. You and Jisung trail behind with flaming cheeks.

It takes Jisung two and a half hours to talk to you again. At that point in the afternoon, Felix is napping on the second practice test you’ve given him; Hyunjin has downed three shots of pure espresso and is currently viewing his screen with concerning intensity; Jeongin is at another table on a quiet Zoom call with his chemistry T.A., Jisung’s notes clutched to his chest like a life vest. And you’re leaning back against your seat opposite to him, scrolling through your phone in what he presumes to be a well-deserved study break. As good a time as any.

He opens up his texts with you. His fingers fly across the keyboard.

Jisung: do you have plans after this?

Your eyes stutter to the top of your screen, linger there for a moment, and lock onto Jisung’s from across the table.

He presses his lips into a thin line to suppress his smile. You let yours spill over in full form, and with it comes a soft giggle that would be worth getting his number fucking blocked just to hear one more time.

Three gray dots appear before elongating into a prompt response.

Y/N: I was gonna ask you the same thing…

He’s the one who laughs this time. Fuck, you’re cute. You’re so cute.

Jisung: can i take you to dinner? Y/N: Yes, I’d love that :) Y/N: When should we leave? Jisung: 9? Y/N: Sounds good~ Jisung: cool Jisung: it’s a date Y/N: It’s a date! Y/N: Excited 💛

With that, you put your phone face down and return to work, though your lips remain privately upturned. Jisung wants to kiss them again.

He also wants to turn you into a mess on his cock again.

Or both.

He doesn’t get much studying done after that thought surfaces.

Jisung: me too <3

When nine o’clock rolls around, you and Jisung begin cleaning up your work stations in near-perfect simultaneity. There’s confusion written all over Hyunjin’s and Jeongin’s faces as they watch you swing your backpacks over your shoulders—but Felix’s expression is a blank slate as he sips from his macchiato. Your ingenuity isn’t the only reason he invited you today.

As you make your way out of the café, your shoulders brush once, twice, and then Jisung drops his hand into the space between the two of you without uttering a word. You scoop it up in your own without missing a beat.

He steps into the freezing night feeling warm all over.

“You know what I realized?” You say as you walk towards his SUV.

“What did you realize?”

“We’ve never had a sober conversation before. Can we change that tonight?”

Jisung has broken hearts before.

There’s no euphemistic way to describe his tendency to abuse the sensitive organs, to wring them out and throw them away like irrelevant trash. To juggle and drop them with a sheepish laugh like they’re nothing more than props in a circus act.

He doesn’t do it to save himself or his partners from getting hurt or any self-ingratiating bullshit like that. It’s for himself, all for himself. All to unload his balls and his mind for fifteen blissful seconds. 

There’s blood on his hands. He never cared to wash it off.

Except you are the one asking for his heart this time around, a dash of hope in your smile as you do so, and he thinks it would be his life’s greatest honor to be discarded by you.

“Sure,” he answers.

He doesn’t even last until he’s inside the car.

Your back meets the door to the passenger’s seat, guided there by his hands on your hips. From millimeters away he watches your surprise morph into understanding, then darken into lust.

“I like when we don’t talk, though.”

It’s the most annoying thing in the world to remove so many layers in such a cramped space.

Combined, your clothing forms a tower high enough to block out the driver’s window completely. An unnecessary blockade.

The glass fogs up anyways.

“Fuck, Ji, yes, right there, oh my god.”

You have your legs spread open and the back of your neck digging into the cupholder on the door. It’s not comfortable. You’re too busy getting fucked open to care.

Jisung detaches his lips from your neck to ask, “here, baby?”

The head of his cock hits that gummy spot again, harder, sweeter. You convulse, your hand scrambling for purchase in his raven locks.

“Yes, yes, yes, don’t stop, please.”

Please. The word plays over in his fuzzy mind.

It seems saying no to you is an impossible task.

His cock slips out of you and you lament the loss of contact with a high wail.

“W-why’d—where’d you go?”

He can’t help but chuckle at how incoherent you’ve become. He cradles the back of your head with a tender hand and lowers your upper body onto the leather seat, adjusting himself to your new elevation.

“Right here, beautiful. Didn’t go anywhere—promise—” 

He expels the final word through gritted teeth as he slams into you again, and the new angle is glorious. Your bodies keen in flawless harmony. Profanities tumble from his lips in a steady stream before they turn back into syllables.

“Would never go anywhere. Would never leave without making this pretty pussy cream like it deserves—holy fucking shit, baby.”

You clench around him at his words and then he’s setting a new, relentless rhythm, rocking the whole vehicle with every hearty smack of his hips against yours, your wet walls squeezing him so dreamily he thinks he sees nirvana with every thrust.

You’re enjoying it just as much, if the bubbles of spit in the corner of your mouth are any indication, and Jisung is viciously proud to be the cause. Unbelievably lucky to feel your breasts jiggling under his chest and your nails digging into the back of his neck.

“Good?” He whispers, and you nod blissfully.

“So—good, Ji, so fucking good. Your cock is perfect, fuck, I can’t even—can’t even think.”

“You’re the perfect one. Can’t believe how well your cunt takes me, shit. It’s like it was fucking made for this.”

“It was,” you breathe, and he nearly shoots his load into you at this alone. “It was, it was—oh, god, I think—think I’m gonna come—”

“Do it,” he rasps. “Come for me. Come on this cock and it’s yours.”

“R-really?”

“Really.”

“Then, I will. I’ll come on your cock—make it mine. Need it so fucking bad, I’m so fucking close, oh—please—”

He anchors himself in place with a hand against the windowsill and the other travels down your body to rub fast, tight circles into your clit. You let out a wanton, prolonged moan, tilt your head back to expose him to your fluttering throat. And then you’re pulling his lips onto yours again, and the following kiss is sloppy beyond belief, the kind that can only antedate the happiest of endings.

“My cock,” you sigh into his mouth. “Mine.”

“Forever,” is the breathy response he doesn’t know if he means, the response he gives you anyways.

And then you curl your fingers in his hair. Clamp your teeth around his lower lip. Clench your thighs around his waist. There’s liquid everywhere. Tearwater spilling down the sides of your face. Release gushing all over his dick and pelvis and backseat.

He catches up the moment he realizes what’s just happened. Pulls out of you. Presses his head against the roof of his car. Spits on his hand. Pumps his pulsating cock. Sends himself over the edge you’ve just finished tripping over.

Eventually, he regains feeling in his limbs.

He opens his eyes, surveys the damage, and grins.

Your stomach is covered in ropes of white, your expression hidden behind your hands. You start shaking your head in profuse embarrassment the moment you feel his eyes on you.

“You squirted,” he says.

“I know,” you almost yell, and his grin erupts into a laugh.

He lowers himself back over you, takes your wrists, and removes them from your blushing face. He doesn’t think he’s seen you so flustered before and it has him palpitating in ways he never thought feasible.

Maybe he did mean the damn thing after all.

He pushes off the strands of hair clinging to your damp forehead and replaces them with a gentle kiss. “It was sexy as fuck and you’re everything.” 

There’s a certain softness in your eyes when he pulls away. He hopes, for your sake, it’s all in his head.

His car is in need of aftercare most of all. You shrug on your clothes with considerable effort and get to work, all while sharing comfortable chatter and easy laughter.

Those things persist during your dinner date at a nearby Chinese restaurant and the drive back to your place, which Jisung knows well enough to no longer need his GPS. Those things persist until he kisses you goodbye on your doorstep, because he would have to be fucking crazy not to after you gave him the best night he’s had in so long.

After you reminded him that he’s still capable of comfort and ease, in spite of it all.

Snow comes a few weeks into the new year. 

This winter, it falls late, and it falls hard, like a gust of breath expelled from drawn lungs at the very last minute. Held there as if lying in wait for something unnamed and unseen. 

The gust of breath is too quiet to be heard over the one Jisung lets out against the shell of your ear. “Wait here.”

He goes to roll off you. You don’t let him just yet, darting your hand around his wrist and bringing his face back within centimeters of yours.

Han Jisung is beautiful. You knew it for the first time at that houseparty and you’ve known it every hour of every day since. But it’s always clearest to you in the afterglow, when his bare skin is golden and sticky and his delicate lips bitten to bright fuchsia. 

When his irises have gone black and you see stars, flaring in the absence of light.

You close the distance that remains between you. Your lips part with a content sigh. Your hands drift over the slant of his neck; his find home in the dips above your waist.

He breaks away once you’re both out of breath, and the pad of his thumb wipes lightly at your lower lip.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes,” you reply shyly. “I couldn’t help myself.”

The smile this brings to his face reminds you of a candle’s flame. Soft on the eyes and scalding to the touch when he presses it back against your lips. Once, twice.

“Can you wipe your cum off me now?” You whisper, and he laughs straight into your mouth.

The mattress lifts. His footsteps grow quieter. You shiver in his absence.

Only then do you notice the blizzard.

You stumble off the bed to throw your curtains aside. Snow descends from the sky like spools of unraveling yarn. The streetlights have been reduced to foggy specks, the parked cars to blurry heaps. Every sidewalk and rooftop in sight has already been slathered in ivory.

Jisung announces his return with a disbelieving whistle.

“Am I dreaming?” You murmur.

“When did that happen?”

“I have no idea.”

You don’t even notice the wild smile on your face until you turn to him and catch his reaction to it. He looks like he’s asking himself the same question.

“C’mere,” he hums, and you oblige.

He laves the warm towel over your breasts and stomach, as well as the places his release has trickled since you flung yourself to your feet. All while supporting the small of your back with a touch fatally careful, an expression wholly adoring. All evidence of just how blurry the line between sexual escapade and lover has become in two short months.

Your ribcage fucking throbs.

“You don’t seem excited,” you say.

He finishes cleaning you off. You give him a distracted thank you, noticing the sudden shadow draped over his face like a netted veil.

“I’m not,” he answers, not unkindly.

“You don’t like snow?”

“Not really.”

“Why?”

He circles around the bed to get dressed. You bend to pick up the clothes tossed aside earlier and drop them into your hamper, then slip into a clean pair of underwear and sweatpants.

“It’s a long story.”

Just as you reach for a top, a bundle of cloth travels in an arc across your bedroom and hooks itself around the crook of your arm. His T-shirt. 

You glance at Jisung. He’s already looking elsewhere, but his private smile makes its way onto your face as you slip it on.

“Well, I have time.” You sink into your mattress, now surrounded by his muted musk, his papyrus and petrichor. “We’ll be stuck here a while, after all.”

“Stuck?” Jisung repeats, the lanyard of his car keys dangling from the pocket of his hoodie, his feet turned towards the door.

A pregnant pause commences. His intentions dawn, and you gape.

“You’re not driving right now.”

He breaks eye contact.

“Right?”

That was the plan, you read in his expression.

You know better than trying to reverse a river’s current by kicking up rocks. You know better than trying to curtail the flight of an albatross by clipping its wings.

You know better than asking someone who thinks he was made to leave to stay.

And you won’t.

“I have somewhere to be early tomorrow morning,” he stammers, the lines terribly rehearsed. “The snow’s not heavy, I’ll be—”

“Stay.”

You’re not asking.

Jisung looks at you, startled, as you glide across the bed. You place your feet on the hardwood and circle your arms around his waist. Lace your fingers upon the hollow of his back. His pulse goes uneven at your abrupt proximity.

Akin to the drag of a feather, you mouth at his cheek, then the side of his neck.

“You can stay, Jisung.”

He shudders at your words, and you’ve got him.

It’s oddly normal, the sight of him clambering into your bed in your clothing—a pair of old sweatpants and your favorite crewneck—like this isn’t the first time you’re sleeping together in your two months of sleeping together.

In fact, the only indication of anything unordinary is the floaty feeling in your stomach when your head hits the pillow and discover Jisung’s face only inches away. He drapes an arm over your waist, gathering you close. You nuzzle into the crook of his neck.

The inevitable question follows.

“Can I save the story for another time?”

“Sure,” you return, keeping your voice small. He doesn’t hear your disappointment this way. “Should we go to sleep, then?”

“We should.”

Your foreheads touch. Your noses bump together. Your eyes cross, watching the adoration pull at his. You dimly register your hand threading in his fluffy locks, his thumb running over your cheekbone. Your lashes narrowly miss the surface of his eyes, and then he tips your face up by millimeters.

You don’t remember when you fall asleep. You only recall the hour beforehand that you spend with Jisung’s lips traversing yours, like you are the ocean and he’s uncovering new waters with every bruise he prints against your throat, every suckle he leaves around your tongue.

In your dream, the roles reverse and you are the one exploring him, mapping out his constellations with wide-eyed wonder.

You wake to a black hole.

For the first five seconds, you see nothing. You hear nothing. You feel nothing. You only blink in the darkness, your mind kicking into groggy gear to ask the very good question of why you’re conscious again.

Instinct moves your hand across the mattress. Empty space greets you where Jisung should be. Unfounded dread shoves your back off the bed. You gasp, the sound seeming to echo in the cavernous silence.

Your eyes adjust enough to discern light in the crack beneath your door, and you’re wide awake.

The following events go by in a blur. You stumble out of bed and into your closet, fastening your fingers around the thickest piece of fabric you find. You fly into the living room, where the lamp by the couch is left on and the pair of worn black Converse on your doormat have gone missing.

The front door is cracked open, and through the narrow inches you spot someone hunched on the stairs outside, his dark hair dyed platinum by the awning light’s fluorescence.

Your heart stills in relief, then quickens with anxiety.

You’ve tried wearing this crewneck in January enough times to know you can’t. In fact, you suspect that it somehow soaks up the temperature, lets it seep in between its every seam until it becomes one with the bitter winds. 

But he isn’t shivering, you notice as you take a seat next to him, draping the puffer over both of your shoulders on your way down. He’s simply staring off into the bleak storm, snowflakes sitting atop his head like a coating of ash, their color matching that of his frozen skin. He’s becoming one with the bitter winds. 

At first, you don’t recognize the man in front of you.

You’re well familiar with those ring-laden hands and the whetted jawline thrown into shadow, those remnants of cologne clinging to his frame. But you have never seen that gaze before, bloodshot and bleak and belonging to somebody new. Somebody who isn’t completely here, straddling the partition between the realms of people and phantoms.

Then he lifts his eyes and you see stars, flaring in the absence of light. Your stars.

And you recognize him for the first time ever.

You drop your hand to your hip, and his fingers feel stiff and cold and perfect, sliding into the spaces between yours.

“Why don’t you like snow?” You ask.

Jisung’s eyes return to the swirling sleet, but he moves your interlocked hands to rest on his thigh, and you know that he’s with you.

He’s been having this nightmare.

It takes place in a small clearing. It’s winter, and everything is covered in snow. Not the gentle kind that you can catch on your tongue, but the unyielding kind that’s hard and dense and covered in cracks, like a lake newly frozen over.

Somebody is in front of him, walking away. He can only see their back. He wants to chase after them. He doesn’t want to be left behind. But there are ghosts nearby, and they’ll split his skull open on the permafrost and tie his windpipe into a pretty bow if he so much as dreams of pursuit. He always does. He doesn’t know how not to.

Normally, the back leaves, and he can do nothing but remain. He can direct his loathing only to the snow into which he bleeds. 

Normally, he waits for the dream to end with something bordering on boredom. He’s seen this movie too many times. He fucking hates how it ends.

This time, though, the snow tastes like something.

After the flavors deliquesce upon his tongue, his head shoots up, his eyes blowing wide as they latch onto the retreating figure. He knows who it is.

His feet scrabbles against the ice with his attempts to rise to them. He lunges forward with frenzied resolve, and that is when the ghosts snap his neck.

He wakes up.

“Cherry blossoms and vanilla.”

You blink, tearwater streaking from your eyes in silent, steaming trails.

“That’s—”

My shampoo.

A broken sob escapes you in lieu of the rest of your sentence, and Jisung laughs, a flimsy facade that crumbles when he lifts his hand to dab at your moistened cheeks and it’s trembling.

“Silly,” he murmurs. “I’m used to it now.”

“I don’t want you to be.”

“I don’t want you to cry for me.”

“You died.”

“And I would do it again.”

This response comes without an shred of hesitation.

You first realized you had something to confess, that night in the the back of Jisung’s SUV. You’ve kept it locked away for your sake and his, even moreso. You see how fear clings to him like an unshakeable wraith, and you refuse to feed the parasite.

Now, your confession explodes from its fortress in the center of your soul and rises up your larynx. You panic like an inept security guard letting their only prisoner bolt free. Is it really the right time? Do you know what to say? Have you really thought this through? 

Too late. It’s rushing to the point of your tongue already. You suppose you’ll find out.

He saves you the trouble.

“Honestly?”

Your confession stills. 

“I don’t know if I’m okay, and I won’t try to convince you otherwise. You’d call my bluff. You’re good at that.

“But everything feels okay when I’m with you. You see me. You allow me just to exist as I am. You make me feel human again—you make me want to feel human again. You empty my mind.”

You feel as if you’ve been ejected into space naked, griping for air where there is none.

“I never believed in having somebody to lose,” he utters, gently leaning his forehead against yours. “But I would rather disappear than watch you go.”

You cradle his jaw with shaking fingers, trying and failing to quell the violence of your emotion.

“Don’t go,” he exhales.

You kiss him.

It should feel the same as before. You reach for the slant of his neck, him the dips above your waist. You sigh into him, parting your lips, and he moves into you deeper, harder, dipping into your mouth with his tongue’s pliant swipe. But there’s something new in the way you hold each other, in the seal of your mouth against his.

The line between sexual escapade and lover vanishes as if swept off the sand and into the sea. His stars come out of hiding at last and they bathe you in their residue, light your heart aglow.

Your confession resurfaces. It wants to stargaze also.

“I love you too,” you breathe.

The night comes and goes.

The two of you spend it entangling, sweating, your lips glued the expanse of his neck and the arcs of his shoulders, writing over the ghosts’ injuries with bruises of your making.

Only when the winds have faltered outside do you attempt to rest again. You are curled up in balmy bliss, utterly depleted. Jisung’s arms around your middle and legs threaded among yours bring you that much closer to slumber’s cusp.

You attribute it to your exhaustion when he mumbles something against you, and you have no idea what it means.

“Thank you for refracting me.” 

Your confusion is palpable in your silence. His laugh hits the nape of your neck with a gentle puff, and he kisses the spot just beneath your ear. “Never mind.”

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© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support!

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・1.2k / 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・chan x gn!reader / 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, fluff, fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship, berry being the perfect baby angel she is. inspired by these bubble messages and @cosmic-railwayxo's treachery. (love u deni)

𝟬𝟲:𝟯𝟲 — “Where’s my baby, hm?”

This is the question on Chan’s lips the moment he lets go of the bedroom door, closed with agonizing caution as to not wake the figure still curled up under the duvet inside.

It’s early. Early enough so the walls are colored a rich beige by new rays of sunlight, so his footsteps are the only sound reverberating around the hallways when he commences his search. Early enough to evidence how he was only bestowed a few hours of sleep before waking up with a budding headache and leaden eyelids.

But he doesn’t mind the lack of rest, not this time. Not when there’s a wad of love with a freckled snout and floppy ears under the same roof for the first time in too long.

“Berry?” Chan calls, his voice tattered and low, like sandpaper. He rakes his eyes over the spots he remembers to be her favorite. Maybe they’ve changed since he was last home. Maybe everything has changed since he was last home.

The thought causes a familiar pang to go off within him, poignant and powerful, but the quiet scuffle of paws against hardwood takes the edge off the guilt straightaway.

Chan finds the beginnings of a smile on his lips before she even rounds the corner, and when she does, well. His grin might as well split his face down the middle. He’s on his knees in seconds, outstretched hands rediscovering home in the puppy’s silky fur as she clambers onto him with blown pupils and excited pants.

His adoring coos of her name falter into muted laughter, which then fragments into a sob. His vision narrows to his precious girl and then starts to blur. When Berry climbs up to give his cheek a few happy licks, she’s fascinated by its saltiness.

You emerge from the bedroom a little over an hour later. Sleeping is hard enough when you’re jetlagged, and even harder when there’s only mattress where you remember Chan’s warm solidity to be. The fabric of Chan’s hoodie suppresses your vocalization of his name as you ungracefully pull it over your torso, still struggling to rouse your body from sleep.

Your beckon produces no response. You wrap a hand around the nearest door frame and peek your head into the living room, a little more alert now.

“Chan? Baby?”

You feel silly. How many visits has it been for you to still feel this nervous, wandering around Chan’s family home? Yet you undoubtedly are, whether because of your absentee boyfriend or that his whole family is a few walls away. You pad through the silent abode with mounting trepidation and intense care to not make any more sound than necessary.

Then you reach the family room and instantly come to a standstill, hands drifting to your sides, features deliquescing to a soft smile. 

Lying on the nearest couch is your boyfriend, head propped up on top of his elbow, his fluttering lashes and gently oscillating shoulders indicating that he’s asleep. You can’t see his face below his eyes, as he has his nose nuzzled into the Cavalier spaniel resting securely in his arms, snoring tacitly into his sleeve, slumbering as deeply as her human companion.

You’ve been stumbling upon Chan sleeping in unexpected places for the better part of two years now, but you still liquefy every time as if it’s the first. These are the moments, you’ve come to realize, when you can care for him in ways he would never let you while conscious: a lift of his laptop off his thighs, a brush of your lips against his hairline, a cardigan draped lightly over his back. These are the moments when you understand in full how far you’ve come together, for him to trust you with his exhaustion with such transparency, to be so vulnerable as to leave you with memories of him that he’ll never have.

Despite your prolonged experience, it’s hard to describe what exactly you’re feeling in this moment. The mere mention of Berry has always dissipated the shadows that veil his face, has always chased off the burdens that cling to his spine. How do you put it into words, seeing your happiness at his happiest?

It suddenly occurs to you that the window beside them is cracked open. That, and you spotted extra quilts in the top shelf of Chan’s closet last night.

Chan’s eyelids lift when he feels the gentle weight of a blanket fall upon his body; so do the corners of his lips, when the culprit materializes before him. Sitting on the edge of the couch, a hand hovering over his frame, face creased into a flinch.

“Sorry,” you whisper, closing the distance between your fingers and the curve of his neck. The pad of your thumb moves over his cheekbone like a willow branch skimming water. “I didn’t think that would wake you up.”

Both of you up, you mentally amend, seeing as Berry has noticed your presence and is wagging her tail with enough vigor for it to thump against Chan’s chest. He lets her wriggle out of his arms and into yours; you emit a noise of glee and gather her into you.

If only you had seen the expression he wears then, watching your eyes scrunch closed at the frenzied kisses she presses to your face. His first love and his very last.

“Don’t apologize,” he answers. “I’m the one who should be sorry for leaving you in bed, angel, I just…”

His voice trails off, but he knows by the softness in your irises when they meet his that you already know.

You move like clockwork. Chan presses up into the back of the couch, the quilt’s edge lifted in wordless invitation. It is your chest that Berry burrows into this time, the top of her head sliding into the space between your chin and the sofa’s cushion. It is Chan’s chest that you’re folded into, the arms around your waist like the coziest of cabins in a sun-spattered wood. It is the back of your neck that he nuzzles his nose into, but not before he litters gossamer kisses across the expanse of skin, as if printing the notes to a lullaby he knows well.

Everything is warm, so warm, so right, and jetlag starts to feel like a distant trouble.

You open your mouth while teetering on the cusp of a dream.

“Baby?” 

He hums into you, listening.

“Always be happy, okay?”

You don’t notice the solitary tear that traverses the bridge of his nose, lands in the cotton of your hood, and dyes the bunched-up fabric a few shades darker. You don’t notice how his embrace around you tightens marginally, like how one’s eyes can’t help but find their dearest possession when the building’s on fire.

“Okay,” he whispers, and kisses your nape once more. Your and Chan’s eyes close together. Berry licks your chin again, then follows suit.

(Another hour later, Chan’s parents walk into the family room. They decide to go out to breakfast for fear of making too much noise in the kitchen, Chan’s mother blotting away tears as she ducks into shotgun, Chan’s father laughing at her sentimentality while blinking back his own.

Another few hours later, Hannah takes maybe fifty-some photographs of the triad of unmoving heaps occupying their couch. Then she grumbles at Berry for being dead asleep at eleven in the morning: “Those two arrived here from across the world yesterday. What’s your excuse?”)

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© 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘅 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support.

"better, now."

words・749 / pairing・hyunjin x gn!stylist!reader / includes・fluff, established relationship, alcohol consumption / note・an extremely self-indulgent kinda emo take on hyunjin @ vfw. takes place in the crying lightning universe.

Hyunjin is gone.

He stopped walking and started floating about five drinks ago, bode farewell to coherent sentences and his eyesight not too long after. Simply kept plucking flutes of champagne off trays carried around by kindred waiters and let himself bask in the glorious evening.

When his stylist shows up in front of him, he mistakes them for the moon.

Gentle hands push strands of sweaty hair out of his eyes, then move to cup his cheeks fondly, protectively, as if imprinting final touches into a snow angel. He watches your lips form his name from mere centimeters away, but the sound of it seems to travel underwater.

“Hyunjin,” you repeat, more audibly this time, a lick of crisp night air cutting through the afterparty’s steamy throng.

He proceeds to melt into you in ways he cannot currently control, sliding a hand over the one you have on the side of his face, fingertips dipping in the slots between yours. Bringing you close enough to him that your chest moulds right against his. Grinning at you with a sickening sweetness that he can taste on his own mouth.

“Hi,” he replies.

“You okay? How are you?” You inquire. “Do you need anything?”

“Hi,” he says again, because he can’t really think of anything else, and that seems to be answer enough.

Before he knows it, he’s walking somewhere, guided only by the arm that he has slung over your shoulders and your silhouette, just barely discernible in the dim venue, which he would follow to the ends of the earth.

An indeterminate amount of time later, he’s standing in the doorway of an unoccupied lounge. The tables of polished mahogany and gold foil have become graveyards of empty wine glasses, but the couch in the middle of the room has been left pristine.

Only after he sits down does the lightheadedness hit, and it hits hard, hard enough to shut his eyes and furrow his brow. His brain swings around the inside of his skull like a pendulum.

There is a delicate brush of your finger against his chin, your quiet request for him to lift it up, and then something hard and cold comes to rest on his lower lip. Water surrounds his tonsils and slips down his throat. A few stray rivulets escape down the side of his neck, then disappear into the napkin that you have pressed upon the skin.

By the time he’s downed the whole glass, he can feel his wits beginning to return—with them, the rest of his senses. His eyes crack open again.

“Hot,” he whispers. “It’s hot.”

You move your hands to his shoulders. Moments later, his jacket is a leather mass over the back of the couch, and he feels his dizziness subside, his oxygen return. 

“Better?”

With the music so far away, he hears the concern in your tone with crystalline clarity. He leans over to press his lips to the underside of your jaw, conveying a silent message: better, now.

He didn’t have plans to spend the night backstage, but the premise seems riveting where he comes to lie. His head nestled in the plush of your lap, the rest of him stretched across the sofa, your hand carding through his hair with the soporific lull of a mellow tide.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles suddenly, and you look down at him, confused.

“For?”

“Getting so drunk.”

If your hand is the tide, your laugh is the sand, warm and ubiquitous and all-consuming. “You had a good time, yeah?”

A good time. What an understatement for the maelstrom of feeling still raging on within him, the happiness and disbelief and pride and gratitude to himself, to you. To us.

“The best,” he answers.

“That’s all that matters, then,” you hum, your thumb dusting over his hairline. “You deserve to celebrate.”

He’s still too drunk to really think, but he doesn’t have to think when it comes to you—just knows in the very wellsprings of his soul all the love you’ve woven into the thing you’re about to say, by the infinitesimal softening of your eyes alone.

“You deserve everything, baby.”

He lifts your wrist to his lips, presses a kiss to your pulse. Above him, your features blur, then come back into focus. His answer is so soft that he almost can’t hear it over the warble of his heartbeat and the descent of his tears.

“I’ve got it right here.”

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp・@automaticpersonabatpaper・@aceofvernons・@linos-kitten・@newhope8・@weedforthoughtz

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

'21 A R C H I V E

—or recs of fics I've read and been reading.

[back to NAVIGATION]

♡ : works im following closely

☆ : my ultimate favorites (mostly finished)

① : oneshots

[OT7]

Choco Bun ☆

dragon!bts ot7 x bunny hybrid!reader

When you moved to Korea after finishing college to continue pursuing latte art and baking, the last thing you were expecting was to open up your very own coffee shop under BTS Corp, Korea’s biggest entertainment service company for idols, models, singers, and more. Thanks to your hard work, creativity, and approachable personality you managed to become friendly with some pretty big named individuals as well as up and coming talent. As exciting and fun as it was for you, you slowly began to realize how much your 7 bosses weren’t particularly fond of this, acts of jealousy, pettiness, and aggression poking through in the most unsuspecting of ways. But what could 7 big named dragons want with a little foreign bunny?

Rose & Thorns ♡

dragon!bts x reader

a lone rose, a little broken, until Jungkook came along and the two of you saved each other, and in doing so, Jungkook showed you a world where he shared with his six other mates.

Quarantine

bts x reader | friends to lover

Something to make your quarantine alone time a little less lonely. Immerse yourself into Quarantine with the Bangtan Boys.

Playlist ♡

idol!bts x idol!reader | soulmate au

You always had this weird obsession with becoming an Idol. After attending your first award show since your debut, the reason why gets clear. Because now, you have seven of the most desired men on the planet as your soulmates. And troubles never looked so goddamn fine.

The Little Fox ☆

bts ot7 x hybrid!reader

Just as you escaped the Little Fox, a bidding house, you find yourself at war with your thoughts, not wanting to go to another shelter. You didn’t expect yourself to find a home anywhere, especially not with the men who found you, and their pack.

Black Mamba

bts ot7 x hybrid!reader

"When a snake stops hissing, they had found its prey."

Forced to adapt a lifestyle she doesn't want and learn abilities she never had, (Y/N) (L/N), an intelligent woman who attained her associate, bachelors, and masters degree at age 24, had found herself stuck in an alternate universe far different from her own. Now, (Y/N) needs to understand the life her other self had in this universe as she tries to find her way back home while avoiding her dangerous, 7 powerful mafia soulmates.

Peculiar Pack ♡

hybrid!bts x writer!psychologist!reader

you’re a successful hybrid writer and psychologist, who takes in seven hybrids one stormy night after finding one of their pack stealing from your garden

No Doubt About It

bts ot7 x reader

Moonchild

soulmates au

Soulmates are a common thing. Everyone has one. Some people think soulmates are the greatest gift fate could give, others are envious about happy couples that were lucky enough to receive a wonderful partner. One of them was Min Yoongi.

Your time to meet your significant other hasn’t come yet, stumbling into the tattoo parlor with a simple idea in mind, not knowing that you will be bound to step by more often.

Until I Bleed Out

poly!bts x hybrid!reader

Hybrids always were discriminated against, the laws passing over years changed nothing, collars still needed to be seen on those innocent necks like some kind of label. Cruelty was something the hybrids faced on daily basis, sex trafficing or illegal fighting it still felt as if those humans treated everything like pets. Situation you however found yourself in, was kind of different - not worse not better but still so bad you did not know if the next day would be yours, and when the winter started coming with big steps it was only a matter of time when the freezing cold would eat you alive. Unless one silent night a little too loud striped tiger decides to break your calm nap with a clumsy package of long limbs after him who just could not leave your tired and scared self alone…

The Edge of Tonight ♡

mafia!bts x reader

A part of him died that night. A larger part died when they couldn’t find you, and over the years whatever was left of him grew cold and hard. It was that ice inside him that got their gang to the top, that gave them power, and money, and all the things a normal mafioso would be more than satisfied with. But none of it meant anything to Namjoon. All Namjoon wanted was you back in his arms. That was the underlying motive in everything he did. For the past ten years, Namjoon built himself an empire, just so he could find the reason his heart beat.

I'll Still Stay

hybrid!bts x human!reader

Ethereal ☆

bts x reader | mafia & dragon au

After leaving your home in need of a fresh start, you open a bookstore with the hopes that the words you read could bring you solace. You never realized that the books you loved would bring you home instead.

Best Of Me

vampire!bts x reader

It’s quite unusual to find a little baby on your doorstep, especially that their area was not of the poorest - you could say that a vampire town was efficient with money and snobby creatures. However over time the first idea of just giving back the little girl seems more and more radical and those moody vampires slowly start perceiving deeper feelings to human they even wanted to kill.

Spring Day ♡

mafia!bts x teacher!reader

Becoming a part time english teacher wasn’t exactly the ideal startup you had hoped for yourself when you first moved to Seoul, South Korea. Luckily, you loved working with children and you were grateful to have found a well paying job with housing included so soon after university. Amongst your class, however, are 5 boys who seem to be constantly ostracized not only by the rest of the students but also by the other teachers and staff members. Becoming attached to you fairly quickly, you’re unintentionally tasked to be their permanent caretaker during their stay at school, even staying past the hours you were needed until they were picked up safely. However, what you didn’t expect was to catch the hearts of their seven older brothers, the leaders of a notorious and well known mafia family in Korea.

To Have, To Hold, To Make You Stay

bts ot7 x reader | soulmate au

At the turn of a new leaf, you find yourself dancing along the knife’s edge. To keep yourself from falling over, you must ask three questions: what do they have, what do they hold dear and how far will they go to make you stay with them?

Until The Last Star Falls ① ☆

gods!bts x mortal!warrior!reader

it was a love you knew would never make it out alive without sacrificing a part of your happiness to receive a greater happiness. but for them, you'd go to any extreme to have them again, and for you, they will always remind you each day that you are theirs and that nothing can tear you apart, not even until the last star falls.

Little Leopard

bts ot7 x hybrid!reader | poly au | hybrid au

If it weren’t for seven men that fateful night you wouldn’t be here now. They showed you good people did exist. That life can be great, that you can be loved and cared for. These seven men were the men you loved and cherished. These men were your mates. Your safety blanket. And to them. You were their Little Leopard.

At Last

supernatural!bts x human!reader | soulmate au

Since the beginning of their existence, BTS has been cursed to share one soulmate with each other. It doesn’t help that she’s mortal and they’re not.

The Household Bunny

roommates au ot7 x chubby!camgirl!reader

You were a cam girl and OnlyFans creator all the while you were a senior in college. A series of events leads you to be living with seven men under the same roof of one renovated motel. Entering the life of rich, and touch starved, men as a less than rich, but similarly touch starved, woman is bound to hold some shenanigans

Unconditionally

werewolf!bts x reader

Y/N’s life was far from normal. All seven of her childhood friends are werewolves who are very attached to her.

House of Hope ♡

hybrid!bts x reader

Your best friend offers you a job as a caregiver for seven hybrids.

Relax, It's Our Honeymoon

bts ot7 x reader

You and BTS are in a poly relationship, and have recently gotten married. It’s time for your honeymoon!

Quaint Spaces

bts ot7 x reader | poly au | 👽

Y/N is a simple drifter among the stars and chooses to nowhere to call home. Unbeknownst to her, she will become the home of many. It is her fate one day to save the fate of the galaxy as she knows it. She will learn that space is quaint all over again.

Sanctuary ♡

mafia!bts x reader

some people are lucky enough to be born into a family that loves them. others meet their family in a coffee shop while on the run from the korean ambassador, while they’re holding a man at gunpoint and beating him to a pulp for treason against their syndicate. 

Spring Days FROST ♡

mafia!bts x reader

You’ve decided to move to a quiet quaint area near the edge of the city, working at a small family owned flower shop surrounded by the very thing you love most: flowers. Lately, more often than not though, you’ve found yourself frequently visited by 5 children whom you can’t help but love and adore, aiding them in their every need when asked. But they’re not your only sudden frequent visitors. Their 7 older brothers, who happen to also be the leaders of the Port Mafia, have taken a strong liking towards you as well. Unfortunately, that also means their dangerous and unpredictable lifestyles will start to mesh with your calming and gentle one, making things far more complicated than you had expected. Seems like your once carefree life wont be going as planned as you had originally hoped.

Home Sweet Castle

bts ot7 x reader | based on in the soop eps

just a few days rest from your busy schedule is enough to get you back on track… spending those days off with your seven boyfriends in a castle built deep in the forest you can kiss any type of rest goodbye!

Hybrid House

hybrid!bts x hybrid!reader

to Seokjin, Home consists of his human partners Namjoon and Hoseok as well as their Hybrids; the pups- named Taehyung and Jimin, their black cat- called Yoongi, and their foxboy- called Jungkook. Together they have the happiest family possible, everyone loves everyone equally. 

So what happens when Namjoon finds you? a cat hybrid, beaten close to death left alone in an alleyway on the coldest night of the year? He takes you home, shows you his family, and together they teach you what love can be like.

Eunoia ♡

hybrid!bts x reader

You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognision, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness isn’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Abundance ♡

hybrid!bts x reader

You never expected that you would end up adopting a hybrid, and if someone had told you that you would end up with seven? Well, you would have thought they were crazy. But here you are, with three different packs of hybrids that don’t get along – but all want to stay with you.

Yeah, turns out crazy is an understatement.

Three Words | Devil Book | Per Heat | Please ①

werewolf!bts x werewolf!reader

Leaving the boys after a major fight lead to the outcome that they were dreading

Every Bloom a Promise ①

bts ot7 x reader

Your boyfriends take you to a wildflower field for a picnic date to celebrate the first weekend of warm weather; shenanigans and fluff ensue.

Dance to This + Call Me Yours ♡

(eventual) bts ot7 x reader

Seokjin didn’t expect his new potential owner to be blind, but with the threat of being sent to a breeding clinic looming over his head, he’ll do anything. 

The Return of an Empress

bts x empress!reader

After one fateful night, you find yourself transmigrated into your favorite novel as the Empress that shares the same name as you. As a bookworm, most would think you’d be happy, but how could you be happy when the Empress you’ve become is expected to be killed in three months. The only thing on your mind now is to learn how to survive. 

Complaint ♡

ceo!bts x reader

I Want You to Stay ☆

bodyguard!bts x royal!reader

Our Little Love ①

mafia!bts x reader | soft yandere

Bleeding Butterflies ♡

vampire!bts x reader

Boys With Luv ♡

bts x reader | soulmate au

In a world where you see everything in black and white until you meet your soulmate, Min Yoongi finally sees in colour when he meets an ARMY while on a walk. However, everything is not as it seems when it turns out that she is not just his soulmate when she finally meets the rest of his band mates at a fanmeet. 

The Great Pretender

bts x reader | werewolf au

Lately, the mask you’ve worn since childhood is slowly getting more suffocating by the day. It doesn’t help that along with this, you’re also trying to find your place in your newfound pack. With their insistent attempt to get closer to you, will you still be able to prevent yourself from slipping?

Linked My Fate

bts x reader | abo au

A series of oneshot scernarios of the eight wolves who where linked by fate.

Peppermint Mocha ①

bts ot7 x reader poly

A week in the college life with seven boyfriends.

Roses & Thorns ☆

bts ot7 x reader | hybrid au | poly au

Y/N is a rehabilitator of hybrids who have been abused or being sold for auction. It’s an illegal thing to do, but she feels strongly that this is the right thing. For many years, she has saved hundreds of hybrids who have needed her help, even for her young age, and six of them decided to stay with her. Namjoon, who was the second saved, initiated an intimate relationship, which Taehyung, who was the first saved, wanted in on. Over time, some of the hybrids that came after the two wanted to join in on the relationship. Now, Y/N has saved a very rare fox hybrid named Hoseok, who is very curious and even more broken. He has the choice to stay with these people and maybe join their relationship or move on to a rehabilitated district where he can have a life of his own. What will he choose?

The Eve ①

bts x reader | greek gods au | soulmate au | reincarnation au

Perhaps the greatest love story, lost with time – history carved by the hands of the unaware, the world forgets the existence of one woman who stole the hearts of 7 Gods, bringing strife, war, destruction and devastation raging across the globe. And, beneath it all, the birth of something more. The love that drove them mad, the love they could never have.

But destiny always found a way to reunite star-crossed lovers.

The Curious Move-in to Apartment 27 ♡

bts ot7 x reader

“It’s a refurbished student housing,” you explain as they trail after you like ducks in a row. Even if they don’t understand what you’re saying, they seem to be clinging to every word. Wherever you look there’s always at least one pair of doe eyes staring expectantly back at you a.k.a. what do you do when you open your doors and find a certain retired boyband for some reason wants to move in

소울 메이트 (soulmate)

bts ot7 x reader | soulmate au

Your night at a concert turns into a dream come true experience. All you have to do, is take his hand.

Immortals

werewolf!bts x reader | soulmate au

Sometimes, you find your destiny. And sometimes, your destiny does whatever it takes to keep you. 

Crystal Snow ①

bts ot7 x reader

This holiday season, you decide it’s your turn to take care of the boys that have given the world their everything. For eight days, you whisk them away on an adventure full of laughter, joy, eggnog, sex, and, most importantly—love. Their break, after all, is much overdue.

Jetsetters ①

bts x flight attendant!reader | smut

You’re left alone to entertain seven of the most prestigious idols in SoKo entertainment. How will you manage? 

Pied Piper ♡

demon lord!mafia!bts x poc!curvy!intern!reader | soulmate au

You’re a recent grad who was given the dream opportunity to intern abroad in South Korea. When you moved into a small, somewhat homely, apartment complex in Gangnam, you were pleasantly surprised to have become neighbors with 7 very intriguing, very charming, very handsome young men. You weren’t expecting them to have become so attached to you so quickly and that’s probably because you’re actually their reincarnated soulmate. To make matters even more convoluted, they’re also part of the mafia, they’re demons, and they’re heir to the throne of the underworld. Who’d thought that your once normal life would change so drastically over the course of such a short time?

Bon Voyage: Into The Sea

bts x reader | werewolf!namjoon, werewolf!hoseok, werewolf!jungkook, merman!yoongi, vampire!seokjin, vampire!jimin, vampire!taehyung

A storm capsized your boat and looks like you were the only survivor. Somehow you made it to shore, but where? Stranded, you suddenly find out you are not alone, and now you’re stuck in the middle of a centuries old conflict between 7 monsters.

Between The Bloodshed | Everything Between Us ☆

gangster!bts x doctor!reader

Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of them through recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.

The Little Wife

mafia!bts x chubby!reader

Heartbeat ① ☆

bts x hybrid!reader

running away from your master is never easy so you deem yourself this will be the last time if you are fatefully brought back to his hold again. so what happens when you stumble upon seven men who say they won't bring you back? what happens when they promise you their love and care instead?

Lifeline

vampire!bts x reader | soulmate au

What happens when a witch curses seven vampires to share one fated mate between them?

You Never Walk Alone ☆

werewolf!bts x reader | soulmate au

You live a quiet life in your late grandfather’s cabin in the woods. You go to school just to graduate and get your diploma, not to make friends or stand out from the crowd. That was until one day, you enter your home to see a pack of wolves that need shelter.

Cat Strut

bts x reader | faerie au

When your grandmother passes away, she leaves her countryside house in your name. The longer you stay, the harder and harder it becomes to explain away the odd happenings. What kind of secrets does this sleepy town hold? And why do the local animals act so strangely around you?

The Sweet Tea Series ♡

mafia!demon!bts x reader | soulmate au

 Korea has been a desired destination of yours for years, a place where you held such a deep rooted connection for that it may finally be the place you belong. Now entering your last year at your art university, you were one of few who were successfully chosen to partake in the one year summer intensive program. Filled with excitement of integrating within a new culture, what you had planned turns for the unexpected when you find yourself rooming next to a local mafia renowned and revered throughout all of Asia. However, things become a bit more complicated when these mafia men are actually demons who find themselves attracted to you, using your variety of tea flavors as an excuse to visit unannounced.  

Clearwater Springs

bts x reader | fairy au | supernatural au | soulmate au

In this world, war-torn and ragged, you’ve been offered a home and a job working as a librarian. Will you meet your soulmates? Will you ever find the shelves behind the piles of books? Who knows.

Overdue ♡

bts ot 7 x reader | smau

Love is indeed a beautiful feeling, but does not come without its obstacles. When your 7 loving, idol boyfriends think it’s better to date someone within the industry or like they put it “Someone who knows their world”, you have no choice but to accept their abrupt decision. Time goes by and you think you’re doing just fine, One long lost dream, One given up identity and one drunk mistake and a few clicks is all it takes until the limelight falls on you and living your life behind a camera is an option no longer available.

Flowers & Tattoos ①

bts x reader

you own a flower shop right next to the tattoo parlor your boyfriends own.

Nightlight ①

bts x reader | mafia au

things have never been easy for you, but you never expected it'd be them that would make things easier.

Pretty Little Flower ①

demon!bts x reader

you were their flower amidst the dark.

You Belong to Us ①

bts x reader

harrassed by guys at a party, your boyfriends come to the rescur to make sure they know you belong to them.

The Butterseries ☆

bts ot7 x reader | poly au | office romance au

their names alone had every men and women turning their heads and falling at their feet. successful, prestigious, handsome, rich, and untouchable to anyone that looked their way. and you? you were just an employee who worked for them. who would've known you meant so much more to them than you could ever imagine?

Yours Alone ①

bts x reader | mafia au

they were always captivated by your beauty, but sadly they aren't the only ones.

Home Calls The Heart ♡

hybrid!bts x reader

Twenty-year old L/N Y/N realizes she might be, okay, is a little bit of a social pariah. But there’s not much she can really do about it. Until a dreary winter day, when a determined, persistent dog hybrid named Taehyung shows up and declares that he’s interested in adopting her for himself and the rest of his lonely pack.

when the rain gets rough ①

bts x reader | mafia au

When you try to voice out your feelings and they get too busy when a deal goes wrong, the rain gets rough as a fight escalates.

The Pack Initiative

bts x reader | abo universe au

Large packs used to be incredibly common hundreds of years ago, but began to phase out with the rise of monogamy in betas. Monogamy began to influence those of half-wolf blood, slowly lessening the amount of partners and starting a steady decline in the once booming birth rate.

Recently, world leaders haven’t been happy with this decision. They proposed a bill to undo the hundreds of years of evolution, and force the half-breeds back into larger packs. Nobody, especially the half-breeds, actually expected the bill to actually pass. But it did.

Now every single apex alpha, alpha and omega has to be rounded up in centres around the world and forced to bond with strangers simply based on compatibility.

After that? They’ll be forced to spend the rest of their lives with each other.

Somewhere I Can Breath

bts x reader | hybrid au

Being a stray hybrid in the city is suffocating. In search of a clearer mind, body, and soul you head to the country. In a way it’s much what you expected. Two things are different. There’s a group of seven boys you never expected to meet, and despite the change in location something still seems to be keeping you from breathing freely.

Just a Taste

vampire!bts x reader

Y/N becomes the new donor for seven bloodthirsty idols, who seem to be way too interested in their new food source.

Journey to The Dixk ①

crack au

A Cinderella story but it’s a dick pic. Yup, that’s right. You find a dick pic on your phone and make it your mission to find the owner of said dick. Time to fuck the seven hottest guys you know! Onwards!

Loving You isn't Hard to Learn ♡

hybrid!bts x reader

In the middle of what many would call nowhere, a sign glows bright yellow. Old, unmaintained, and on its last legs, the letter e flickers for a few seconds before going dark. H aven’s Door Motel, it now reads.

Love Starved ① ☆

jk x reader -> ot7 x reader

It’s the little things that often lead people to fall headfirst into love. and Jungkooks already fallen, hard. And the boys? they might not have fallen yet, but they can feel the pull of gravity. 

House of The Omegaverse

bts x reader | omegaverse au

['22 ARCHIVE] | ['24 ARCHIVE] | ['23 ARCHIVE]

The titan group from South Korea, BTS, suddenly vanishes off the face of the earth, only to wake up in a three-storey house with a small-time writer and their DNAs altered. Omegaverse is no longer just a fiction trope; not to these eight people, no. Stuck with only one omega between them, how will this polyamory evolves? And, will they ever escape the house?